Lives of Others
by Surreptitious Cardboard Box
Summary: Times are changing, but as the Dark Lord Voldemort continues to rally more supporters to his cause, the students in the cosy confines of Hogwarts school castle are unaware of, or at least unconcerned by, the growing dangers in the world around them. R
1. To See You Nice

**Chapter One**

_To See You Nice_

In a small Muggle town in Kent, a cloaked figure stood waiting patiently in the market square, overshadowed by the clock tower on the public library beside him. Gripped in his hand was a thick, gnarled wand of ebony, lowered to his thigh so as to keep it out of sight. If it had been a market day, the square would have been even busier, but the man was not worried by the number of Muggles that were present, none of whom noticed his presence.

He was tucked into an alley that led up to smaller shops sat behind the library, and from there he had an undisturbed view of the two other cloaked figures across the square from him, both of whom were also melting into the shadows around them, leant so casually against shop walls that they appeared to be sinking into them. Of course, they were currently operating under Disillusionment Charms, but when the time arose for it, the Muggles would have no doubt that they were there.

At the sound of a light _crack_ behind him, the man with the ebony-wand turned calmly to face another robed man who had just apparated behind him. He was thick-set, with a squashed nose and a square jaw, and his hood was lowered.

"Everyone is in position," he said.

"Good. The Ministry shall now learn what happens when they oppose the Dark Lord. Let's see them stick up for these Muggles now when they see what a hindrance it is for them to do so." A pause, then, "you are cleared to attack on the hour exactly."

The thick-set man merely grunted, bowed his head a fraction, then disapparated from the alleyway.

Turning back to face the square, the hooded figure nodded to the others across from him, informing them everything was still going to plan. Scanning the scene before him, he counted eight people in the square, the nearest to him a dark-haired woman who was rifling through her handbag with a young boy of about thirteen years half a pace behind her, his movement sluggish in his early morning tiredness. The woman stopped to search properly in her bag, the boy bumping into her, and at that moment, the bell in the clock tower began to chime ten o'clock.

Waving his wand over himself, the cloaked figure removed his Disillusionment Charm, then stepped out into the sunlit square and pointed his wand at the stationary pair of unobservant Muggles.

"_Avada Kedavra_!" he said forcefully, and then a green light shot out, and the targeted Muggles received no more warning.

* * *

Finding herself left alone with her older sister was never enjoyable for Dorcas Meadowes, but that Rachel was the only family member who was available to see Dorcas off for her last year of school made it all the more unbearable. Rachel too was clearly unhappy with this arrangement, but it had been easier for them not to resist this decision their mother had made. She would have had a thing or two to say about that, and angering her was never worth the trouble.

It went unmentioned, of course, that their mother was only 'busy' in the sense that she was planning some social event to be held later in the week. Dorcas would gladly have gone without her anyway. In fact, both she and Rachel knew that the only reason anybody was accompanying her at all was to keep their father happy; had he not been working, he himself would have been there instead, proud to see the youngest of his four daughters heading off for her last year of education. Life never played out how people wanted it to, however, and as always, the only person who had once again managed to get their way was Mrs Meadowes, who at that moment was probably engaged in some leisurely flower arranging, her mind completely free of concerns regarding her daughters' whereabouts and actions.

Many other families were present on the platform however and Dorcas shied away from them all, trying desperately to not be noticed by anybody, but at the same time, rather aware that she was more than likely failing to do so.

Rachel, having clearly noticed this particular behaviour of hers let out a short, mocking laugh. She folded her arms just below her breasts, pushing them closer together. They were barely covered by the low-cut top she wore. Rachel never left much to the imagination.

"Do you think they're here already, then? Have you seen either of them?" she asked, peering around the station.

Dorcas glared up at her, shaking her head to herself at how rude her sister was.

"I couldn't care less if they were, Rachel. I'm not looking for them."

"Psshtt, as if. You've gone nearly two months without seeing either of them, and now you're trying to tell me that you haven't even thought once about this day and what it'll be like having them around you again?"

"They're not going to _be_ around," Dorcas said. "That's the point." She tried to sound as forceful as she could, but it made no difference with Rachel, who would never care about what Dorcas told her anyway. Years of feuding had seen to that.

Dorcas sighed. Eventually one of them would have to say goodbye to the other, even if it was just so that they would stop wasting their time by standing in each others' presence.

There was still plenty of time available; she had managed to make sure she would arrive at King's Cross Station, get to the platform and find a compartment on the train a good while before it were to even leave. It certainly was not the way in which previous school years had begun but at least it was not stressful.

A cough from Rachel signalled she was getting bored. Dorcas looked back up at her.

"God, it's ages since I came here last," said the older sister. She was right. For the past few years, nobody had come to the station with Dorcas except for their parents, or Diana, the third Meadowes sister. Rachel herself had finished school a good five years ago and clearly felt that she owed it to nobody to go anywhere that would remind her of homework and detention and teachers.

"Well I doubt it's changed." Dorcas chewed her lip. "I'm gonna go now, anyway." She looked hesitantly at her sister, who managed to give her a begrudging sort of smile.

"Okay. Um … have fun."

They stood awkwardly for a moment, then Dorcas turned, scoffing to herself at the ridiculous situation, and wheeled her luggage trolley closer towards the train, getting in line behind a younger student whose parents were helping lift his trunk up the step. Once she had levitated her own through the doorway and into the corridor, with a careful flick of her ash wand, Dorcas turned to close the door behind her, and saw Rachel, back already to her, heading in the opposite direction for the platform exit.

* * *

The start of a school year at Hogwarts was always a little chaotic, but Jack quite liked that. It provided some form of entertainment, to kick-start the year off, and put him in high spirits, which was rather necessary considering how long the journey to school was. Already he was bored, due to lack of company; he had made his own way to King's Cross Station this year.

When he had arrived, he had put his luggage on the train then returned to the platform, looking out for people he knew or for something to do until it was time to leave. So far he had not noticed anybody he could be bothered to speak to; most of the older students would not turn up until later, knowing how unnecessary it was to overcompensate for time, and familiar enough with the concept of putting suitcases on a train that they felt comfortable arriving when they were ready to. On the other hand, it was easy to spot a first year student, as they were more often than not accompanied by huge numbers of family members; most arrived far earlier than was required (in order to compensate for their parents' fears that anything could go wrong, including the train deciding to leave without them); and dithered around on the platform for a long time, as nerves kicked in and they wondered how they could ever possibly board a train by themselves and last a whole year away from home.

Jack could barely remember his own first day at Hogwarts. It was the only time both his parents had taken him to the station together, before their divorce the following year. He could recall playing card games with a couple of lads he had met in one of the carriages, but mostly memories of events that far back were now just hazy images.

Leant against a pillar on the platform he watched the people before him, some catching and holding his attention more than others. As he scanned the crowd, grinning lazily to himself, he eventually noticed a familiar face. Dorcas Meadowes was stood near the train, talking to a woman who had her back to Jack. He was pretty sure he had seen her at some point before, and realised it was probably one of Dorcas' sisters. Whatever they were discussing, neither of them looked particularly excited by it. Before he knew it, Dorcas was walking towards the train, and then her sister was heading in the opposite direction. That had to be the sister she disliked. Jack did not know whether to laugh or grimace at the realisation that for the first time, Dorcas had nobody who loved her there for her. He watched as she turned to see her own sister leaving, and then she shut the carriage door and stepped out of view.

Jack frowned. There was probably something he could have done to make Dorcas feel more welcome; if she would have ever let him. It was no secret that she was not keen on him.

If Dorcas knew he was even thinking about her wonderful little life, however, she would not have been happy, so he continued looking down the length of the platform, allowing himself to get distracted by other things. He could always help her out at a later point.

It was then that a brilliant opportunity presented itself; Elayne Clarke, the world's biggest mystery as far as he was concerned, appeared to be having difficulty getting her luggage on the train. Or rather, appeared to be making a scene whilst she attempted to get her luggage on the train. It was no surprise, really, but it was glorious to watch as she stood there, kicking at her trunk, her actions so exaggerated it was impossible to not see she was already seeking attention.

Dressed in a black bomber jacket that merged seamlessly with her dark wavy hair, tight jeans, and what his dad's girlfriend referred to as 'heeled ankle boots, Jack: small and sexy', she tottered around her trunk as though sizing it up for a fight. Jack could see that she was already drawing the gaze of a few parents, though whether it was because of her appearance, or simply her behaviour, he could not tell this time. Not feeling at all guilty at the sudden glee that swept through him, Jack glided forward, heading straight for her. Finally somebody worth his attention had turned up.

* * *

Considering its size, and its location in the country's capital city, it was not surprising that Kings Cross Station was rather busy at ten-thirty in the morning, despite the morning rush hour having passed several hours earlier. Although she had not been brought up in the Muggle world - where magic was not so much unused as _unheard_ of - Amelia Burke was aware of how much public transport was relied on, so she could understand why so many people were bustling around the station, buying tickets, or rushing for trains, or even - in the case of one particular scruffy, inebriated-looking young man - urinating in the poorly lit corners, and so on.

As she reached the brick wall that led to Platform 9 ¾, Amelia's brother, Ed, barged past, knocking his trolley into hers with all the clumsiness of a 16-year-old boy. She took a deep breath as he darted through, thankful for the momentary wait he had provided her with. She had never been keen on the feeling that accompanied walking through this wall, but there was no alternative way of reaching Platform 9¾. After a moment, she ran forward, fingers tightening around the handle of her luggage trolley, and filled her mind with the knowledge that the wall before her was not solid, but intangible. There was a weird, momentary, blurred blackness at the corners of her vision, and then before her was revealed the sight of a platform much more packed than the ones she had just left.

The great steam engine that headed the Hogwarts Express stood on the rail tracks, gleaming almost proudly, as though it knew of the great journey it was about to undertake and of its importance in transporting the hundreds of students to the school. One set of parents, possibly Muggle, seemed very impressed with it, and were hurrying their young daughter to stand in front of it so that they could take a photo before she boarded.

It was always a little alarming to find just how noisy the platform could get; with owls hooting, and children laughing, and the general chatter of reunited friends and teary-eyed parents, it was a surprise anybody could be heard over it all. Amelia even noticed one of the older students boarding the train with a wireless in the crook of his arm, as he fiddled with the tuning so that occasional snatches of loud music echoed around everybody.

Ed was a little further ahead of Amelia, scanning the throng of people as he no doubt searched for his friends. Seconds later, their mother materialised behind Amelia, a smile forming on her face.

"Oh, this time of year again!" She put a hand on Amelia's arm. "You might want to take it all in for a moment, Amelia. The final year is a time for revisiting fond memories."

Ed was clearly unimpressed with their mother's advice. "It's just school, mum, it's not like she's going to cry about it when she's finished." He rolled his eyes and looked back at the crowd.

Amelia made a mental note to not get weepy about the end of school in front of him, if it ever came to that.

"Well, your father and I are very proud of you." Vivian Burke liked to say that a lot.

Amelia nodded to let her mother know she understood what she meant, but joked, "what, that I managed to get this far?"

Laughing, Ed rolled his trolley back and forth with impatience. He wore the usual cheeky, boyish grin that had won their mother over time and again whenever she had been on the verge of telling him off.

"Mum, can we go now please? I need to find my friends."

"Of course. I would _never_ keep you," their mother replied, smiling at Amelia as though sharing a joke with her. She reached into her handbag, pulling out her purse. "Here's some money for food on the train, and here's some for you, Amelia."

Amelia took the money without looking at it and put it in her own purse. She and her brother had already been given fifty galleons each by their father the previous night.

"Amelia's got more," Ed said immediately, still holding out what he had just been given as though expecting more to be added to it.

"We'll send you some more at the end of the month," their mother said, "but you don't need much for now." She glanced around. "Well I suppose you might want to hurry up and find some seats on the train before they all get taken."

"I need to find my friends," Ed muttered.

"Yeah, I should probably find the others," said Amelia.

Their mother nodded in acceptance that her children were about to leave, and drew Ed into a brief hug before wrapping her arms around Amelia. "Have a good term. We'll keep in touch!" she called as they both started to push their trolleys towards the train.

Ed acknowledged her with a brief wave over his shoulder, and then they were lost in the throng of students, as they headed for the nearest carriage door.

* * *

"For fuck's sake," Elayne muttered to herself as she attempted to drag her trunk towards the Hogwarts Express. She had known when she had packed it the night before, and when she had eventually finished packing it just a few hours ago, that she would never be able to lift the damn thing, but that was beside the point.

She gave up on dragging it, and let it drop to the ground, pushing up the cuffed sleeves of her jacket. Why on earth did these things not come with wheels? Nearby, she noticed a young girl, maybe about twelve or thirteen years old, with her mother, who fixed Elayne with a disapproving stare. Well perhaps she had sworn louder than she realised, then.

Prodding the trunk with her foot, she attempted to kick it forward, though it barely moved, and she nearly lost her balance when her leg swung up higher than she had intended.

"Need a hand, gorgeous?" asked a low voice in her ear, as she felt a hand slide around her waist.

She did not even need to look. "Well if it isn't my shining Jack Knight in armour, " she cooed mockingly. She turned her head upwards to face her new companion. How typical that he had chosen to appear just as she was making a fool of herself.

"And how are you?" It seemed Jack had decided to get a stupid haircut over the summer; it was shaved, slightly longer than a buzz-cut. The clean lines of the cut looked smart but it was definitely a look that was going to require some getting used to.

"Oh, I'm just fine, clearly." Elayne cast an eye around them. "You're here alone, then?"

He shrugged, then without a word, leant forward, grasped her case by the handle and hoisted it up.

"Oh yes, make yourself useful, then," scoffed Elayne. She breezed past and boarded the train through an open door, then started to head up towards the front end. Before long, Jack caught back up with her.

"Where's my case?" Elayne asked him as she continued down the train corridor, the clack of her heels echoing along with her.

"Left it on a rack," he breathed.

Elayne sighed. "Well, what if I need something from it?"

Jack stopped, no doubt to make sure he had her attention. "Then you go back and get it." When Elayne fixed him with a glare, he responded with a casual jerk of the shoulder. "What?"

"You're a pain in the arse," Elayne told him, shaking her head.

"And you're a demanding bitch. Nice to see you again, too, by the way. I swear your tits grew bigger over the summer."

Elayne scoffed but chose to not respond to the provocation, instead asking "I don't suppose you've seen anybody yet, have you?"

"I noticed Emma on the platform, which reminds me, actually-" Jack was cut short by Elayne's sound of disgust.

"I meant somebody of use to me."

Jack threw an arm around her waist again at that point, and cinched her up close to his side. "Oh, come on Clarkey, please can we find Emma? I love watching you two."

"_No_, you idiot. I don't want to see her."

"Shame: you guys are so fun. Ooh, wait-!" Jack pulled her back so suddenly that she fell right into him. His arms found their way around her, though, and stopped her from toppling backwards to the floor. She could feel his breath in her hair. He was gazing through the window of a compartment, but from the very edge, as though he didn't want to be seen.

"You should go in this one," he whispered right in her ear, his voice sliding down her neck with a chill.

She quickly peered through the window. One of her dorm-mates, Dorcas, was sat by the window, the side of her head pressed against the glass as she stared out at the train tracks. "Why?"

"Because she's alone and you should probably do at least one nice thing before you die." Jack chuckled softly to himself as Elayne swivelled round to punch his arm in retaliation to his teasing.

"Why would she be alone? She's never-" she narrowed her eyes. "Wait. You know something. What do you know?"

Jack shook his head. "Not for me to say. But just try to be nice and go keep her company. If the others care about you, they'll find you eventually." Before Elayne could even open her mouth to protest, he added, "don't mention that I told you to go in there." He released her from the grip of his arms.

Her curiosity got the better of her, and she forgot whatever argument she had been about to make. "Why not?"

"Do you want me to blackmail you?"

Elayne scoffed. "You wouldn't anyway," she muttered, turning towards the door and sliding it open.

* * *

Girls were one of the many things that Paul Frost had very little experience in dealing with. Furthermore, girls that smoked were definitely a death blow to his confidence. Thus, when he found himself faced with two fine specimens looking as relaxed as he could ever dream of being, his stomach started doing warm-ups for the Olympic Gymnastics. The part of the train where he had boarded had looked quiet – that was why he had chosen the carriage he had - and he certainly would not have expected to find two such attractive girls so far away from the centre of all the noise and exuberance, where they surely would have received more attention.

But then again, he realised, considering smoking was against school rules, perhaps they were more bothered about not getting caught. Which put him in an awkward position.

They did not seem worried, however. The one nearest to him stepped closer, smiling.

"Hi," she said softly. "Are you looking for somebody?"

Paul's stomach had launched into some fully-fledged somersaults now. "Um, just my friends. I'm sure I'll find them soon. They can't be that far, right?" He let out a nervous chuckle.

Both girls were smiling, which only served to make him feel more uncomfortable. "Maybe we've seen some of them," the other said from just inside their compartment. "We could help you."

"Oh, honestly, it's fine, thank you." They did not seem to get the hint. Either that, or they refused to take it.

The girl nearest to him took a drag on her cigarette as she scrutinised him.

"What's your name?" she asked, coolly exhaling smoke out the side of her mouth.

"Paul ..."

"I'm Amy. That's Helen. You're a seventh-year, aren't you?" She did not wait for an answer. "We're the year below you. Do you play Quidditch?"

"'Course he does," said Helen, who was hidden in the depths of her hooded sweater and the shadow it cast around her face. She now came out into the corridor and placed a hand on Paul's upper arm. "You're built for it," she told him.

Paul had never considered himself as built for anything, but currently that was the least of his concerns.

"I don't play on the House team if that's what you mean."

Amy gasped.

"No way! They should let you on the team. It's your last year an' all, right? You should try to leave your mark. I'm sure you'd get lots of girls." She actually winked at him.

Starting to feel a bit hot under the collar, Paul glanced around, looking for anything that could distract him. The train decided not to fulfil his hopes in this regard.

"So, you're not going to tell anybody that we've been naughty, are you?"

"What?" Paul's head snapped back round to look at Amy, who was wearing a sly grin.

She waved her hand in front of him, cigarette loosely clutched between index and middle finger.

"We're not supposed to be smoking, but you know what it's like: you have an _addiction_ to something, you can't really help it, right?"

"Right." Paul smiled politely. "I won't tell anyone."

"What a good boy."

They all heard a clatter further up the corridor at that moment, and turned their heads to see what had caused it.

"Amelia ..." Paul muttered to himself as he recognised the girl stumbling towards them, clutching quite a large shoulder bag, and an owl cage. She _was_ recognisable, but definitely a lot more tanned than usual, too. When she saw him watching her, she grinned, and Paul noticed Amy and Helen step back a little as she got closer.

"Hey Paul, you alright?" Amelia glanced at the other two girls as she reached them. "Er … hi."

Helen nodded. "We were just talking to Paul about Quidditch."

"I'll bet you were." Amelia seemed rather amused by this, for some reason that Paul could not decipher. "You might want to be careful, by the way," she added, indicating their cigarettes. "In case a Prefect comes down this way, I mean. Anyway, are you coming, Paul?"

"Yeah. I think there's some empty compartments a bit further down." Paul glanced at Amy, and then Helen. "Nice to meet you," he said awkwardly.

"Bye Paul!" he heard one of them call after him as he turned away. "Hopefully we'll see you again soon!" There was a giggle from both of them, and then he was in the next carriage, and the faint smell of tobacco surrounding him was the only reminder that they had even been there at all. He felt like his stomach could have won the gold medal for the performance it had just put on.

* * *

"You alright?" Amelia made sure to ask as soon as the carriage door had shut behind them.

"Yeah … shouldn't I be?" Paul always seemed a little confused by everything that went on around him, bless him, and this was no exception. He did not usually get much attention from girls, or at least not as much as Simon did, but when he did get it, he was so oblivious to it, or at least acted so unsure that the effort became almost negated by his lack of response.

"No, of course not, I just know what you're like." Amelia grinned. "I'll shut up now. I don't want to embarrass you." She paused. "So, they wanted to know if you played Quidditch then, did they?"

"How did you know?"

"Some girls are very predictable, love. What did you tell them?"

"That I don't. But they said I should try-out."

That actually was not a bad idea, Amelia thought. "Why don't you? My mum's been going on all summer about how seventh year is so important and it's your last chance to make the most of school and all that, and I get what she means. It's fine for us to say now that we won't have any regrets in the future, but in twenty, thirty years' time, it might be a different matter, I suppose." She bobbed up and down a little bit with excitement, grabbing Paul's shoulder with her free hand. "But anyway, that's not important right now! How are you? I haven't seen you for a while, eh? Did you miss me?"

"I did. You're very tanned."

"Ooooh yes, I know, isn't it amazing! I was actually trying to stay _out _of the sun most of the time. I can't wait to show Elayne." It was a wicked thought, but the moment she had got back to England from her holiday, Amelia had thought of how people at school would react to her slight change in appearance, and she knew it would be good to see just a little bit of jealousy on other faces. "Do you think we should go find her, actually? She's probably wondering where we are by now, and I imagine Simon and Katie are going straight to their meeting ..."

Now quite excited by the prospect of being back with all her friends, Amelia turned back round the way they had been heading and resumed searching for Elayne.

* * *

Dorcas glanced up as she heard her compartment door slide open with a clatter. She had wondered how long it would be before somebody else came in and inevitably asked if they could share the space with her; she had no delusions over the fact that there definitely was not enough space on the train for everyone to have a compartment to themselves.

She had not expected the newcomer to be somebody she knew, however, and was a little taken aback when Elayne craned her neck though the doorway.

"Hey, Dorcas. Can I join you?" This prospect seemed to make her feel awkward, for some reason Dorcas could not fathom. Elayne knew a lot of people, and if she did not feel comfortable sitting with Dorcas, she surely could have found somebody else to share a compartment with.

Not one to be rude, however, Dorcas invited her in, and Elayne began to make herself comfortable on the seat opposite. Much of the way she carried and presented herself was reminiscent of Rachel. There was the same excessive amount of jewellery – rings, earrings, and a long elegant necklace that nestled in the cleavage – that verged on the point of ostentatiousness; the same attention-grabbing clothing, from the heels to the leather jacket. That jacket itself was a statement; she sat hunched with her feet up on the seat, still wearing it even though the train compartment was not cold.

"Is it busy out there, then?" Dorcas asked eventually, striving to make conversation.

"Um, yeah, it's starting to be. I think most people are on the train now."

Dorcas had been able to see though into the corridor and out the window on the far side of the train, but from where she was sat it was impossible to see onto the platform and thus judge how many people still had not boarded.

"Most of the compartments are getting quite full," Elayne continued. "I've just been trying to avoid Jack, to be honest, before he manages to find me." She glanced through the window in the door as though expecting Jack to be peering in at her.

"Fair enough," Dorcas said gruffly. She knew Jack well, and found him to be infuriating company at the best of times.

The two girls sat there for a while, making light conversation and glancing into the corridor every now and again as they saw the occasional student pass by. Then, nearly ten minutes after Elayne had entered the compartment, they heard the banging of someone's trunk outside and the door clattered open again. Dorcas looked up to see another of her dorm-mates, Amelia, entering and grinning at Elayne who let out a gasp at her friend's arrival.

"Amelia, you fitty!" she exclaimed. "I _knew_ you'd get tanned!"

Amelia laughed, and as she stepped further into the compartment, Dorcas saw that she was not alone. Another Ravenclaw, Paul, was just behind her, eyeing the scene before him somewhat nervously. As he caught Dorcas' eye, he smiled shyly at her, then quickly looked back at the other two as though embarrassed by what he had just done.

"... and I didn't really notice 'til we got back home," Amelia was saying to Elayne as she pulled away from her, out of a hug, "and we realised everyone was much paler." She let out another laugh. "Hi, Dorcas," she added, settling down on Elayne's right. "How are you?"

Knowing it would put a downer on this clearly happy reunion if she answered truthfully, Dorcas made an effort to appear cheerful. "Alright, thanks," she replied, hoping they would not press much further.

Paul seemed unsure of whether to sit down.

"Did you want me to move my stuff for you?" Dorcas offered, sliding her handbag closer to her to make some space on the seat, and indicating for him to sit with her. She did not know him well, but she had always had a bit of a soft spot for Paul; he was friendly towards her, once he got over his initial shyness, which was more than could be said of a lot of people.

He seemed to accept this offer, for he took his hands out of his pockets and sat down once he had brushed his hair out of his eyes. "Thanks," he said softly, looking down at the floor.

* * *

For the next hour or so, the four of them swapped stories on how they had spent their summer. Amelia had seen Elayne and Paul on several occasions throughout the holidays, so they had little to catch up on, although they had wanted to know the details of the two weeks she had just spent in Tunisia with her family.

"So yeah, we only got back at about two o'clock, yesterday morning," she said, finishing her story, "and then I had to spend all of yesterday packing." Usually before her return to Hogwarts every September, Amelia would completely empty her trunk and sort through all her possessions, throwing out a years' worth of rubbish that would somehow manage to accumulate in there.

Suddenly she remembered something she had discovered the previous night, between the pages of her copy of _Asiatic Anti-Venoms_.

"Oh yeah, Elayne, I found something you might want to, um … retrieve."

Unsurprisingly, Elayne looked confused by this cryptic suggestion.

"Huh? What is it?"

"Well, I'm not sure if it's something you want mentioned." Amelia gave her friend a vague smile. "I'll give it to you later, anyway."

She could tell by the way that her friend was frowning out the window that Elayne was now thinking furiously about what this mysterious object could be. By the looks on Paul and even Dorcas' faces, they were too.

The train had started on its journey not long after Amelia and Paul had entered the compartment, and they were now speeding north through fields of green which were interspersed with the occasional bright yellow patch of rapeseed.

Not that surprisingly, Dorcas had not spoken too much, presumably due to the unfamiliar company, though Amelia had found herself wondering for a while now why she was alone in the first place. If Elayne had already found out, then she had given no indication, so eventually Amelia decided to broach the subject when Paul had left for the toilet.

Glancing over to check the door was shut properly behind him, she said, "so, Dorcas, are you waiting for friends? Like Jeremiah, or …?" She left the question hanging, unsure how to finish it. If Dorcas _was_ waiting to meet someone, then they were certainly taking their time.

The moment Dorcas looked up, however, Amelia knew by the pained look on her face that it had been a mistake to ask.

"Sorry!, I didn't mean to pry, I was just wondering-"

Dorcas shook her head, a look of awkwardness now etched on her face, as though she didn't quite know what to do.

"No, it's fine. I- Jeremiah and I aren't together any more."

Amelia glanced at Elayne, who said nothing. Elayne had never been good at comforting others. She probably did not even realise she was meant to.

"I'm really sorry to hear that," Amelia proffered as an apology of sorts for bringing the subject up. "You guys were really close." It probably was not quite the right thing to say, but it was certainly true. Both Ravenclaws, Dorcas and Jeremiah had been together for about three years, that Amelia knew of. It was certainly the longest-running relationship within the student body for quite some time now.

Dorcas smiled weakly. "I-" she struggled for words, eventually settling upon, "thanks."

"You know you're welcome to spend time with us whenever you need to, right?" Amelia said, still hoping to make up for putting her dorm-mate in such an awkward position.

There was no reply as such, but it had been an open invitation anyway; Dorcas could do with it as she wished.

Paul returned after a while and, fortunately, brought with him new conversation; apparently Wesley Belmont, a Ravenclaw from the year below, had been caught in a fire caused by Ashwinder eggs, and as a result had a whole arm covered in burns that were still healing. According to Paul it "looked quite cool, but is probably really painful."

Distracted by this story, Dorcas began to ask for more details, and luckily Paul was happy to oblige. Amelia took this opportunity to leave, excusing herself to the toilet.

It was on her return walk to the compartment, having just been greeted by a girl she knew from Gryffindor, that she heard a male voice call her name from behind. Her heart skipped a beat as she recognised the voice and she spun around, her eyes widening in excitement as they fell upon Simon, her Simon, further up the carriage, which he seemed to have just entered.

Without time to feel foolish over it, she let out a scream, running straight towards him, and jumped. Luckily, Simon had a good reaction time, catching her and holding her up as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

"Hi," he said, grinning. His shoulders were broader than Ed's even and the sleeves of his plain green t-shirt were tight around his upper arms. He had no difficulty holding her up.

Without really thinking, Amelia leaned forward and kissed him, very briefly. Simon didn't have very long to look surprised before the compartment door opened and he dropped Amelia to the ground.

In stepped Katie, another of their friends, who smiled as soon as she saw Amelia.

"Sorry, I was just putting my trunk on a luggage rack," she explained to Amelia as she hugged her, completely unaware of what she had just missed. "We saw you from further up, so Simon went chasing after you."

Amelia glanced up at Simon who was simply staring at her. He and Katie were both Prefects, and as a result had been in a meeting since the start of the journey. Since their fifth year, Amelia had had to wait even longer than usual to see her two best friends.

"Well we're quite a bit further down," she told them. "Paul and I spent ages looking for Elayne." She started to lead them down the train, threading though a group of students that was so big it had spilled out of a compartment into the corridor. "Oh, I should tell you," she said, lowering her voice as she cast an eye around her, "Dorcas is with us as well. She was already in there, I think, but it looks like she and Jeremiah have split up, so be nice or whatever, you know. She doesn't seem too great, still." She said no more on the matter, trusting that they would be sensible about it; the only one who would need some reminders to be tactful was Elayne.

"How was your meeting?" she asked her friends.

"It was alright," Katie replied. "Not really any different to what it's usually like. "Although have you heard who the new Head students are, yet?"

"I know who the Head Girl is. Lily, Evans, right?" Amelia let Simon slip his arm around her shoulders as he caught up by half a pace to walk beside her.

"Yeah. How did you know?"

"Elayne told me. Apparently she saw Mary in Diagon Alley the other week, who had been out celebrating with Lily and Vanessa the night before. She said she didn't know who Head Boy was, though."

"She wouldn't have guessed it anyway," Katie replied. "It's James Potter," she explained, when Amelia turned around and paused walking down the train, stopping Simon short.

"Huh ..."

"I felt quite sorry for Lily," Katie continued. "She looked a bit stressed out."

That was not particularly surprising. Lily and James were known for their arguments - they tended to attract attention whenever they clashed - and although things between them seemed to have died down a considerable amount in recent months, it no doubt must have been rather disconcerting for the new Head Girl to discover that her former rival was to be her new partner for a whole year. Besides, supervising a meeting and giving out instructions to other students was probably quite nerve-wracking.

"Did James actually do anything, or did he just stand around?" Amelia asked, continuing on her way to their compartment.

"He did come up with some new ideas, actually. New methods for patrolling and stuff." Katie stopped herself. "It's all boring stuff," she explained hurriedly. "You won't be interested. But he did sort of help, yeah. He's probably determined to prove his worth, I suppose."

* * *

James Potter had just been about to leave the Prefect Carriage of the Hogwarts Express, grateful that his meeting was finally over, when Lily Evans had shut the door on him. Lily, the Head Girl. The boggart to his patronus. He sniggered to himself at that thought; he knew it was not really fair to call Lily a boggart, because she was not some foul, dark creature he needed to overcome, but he was amused by the mental image of what she would look like as one, shuffling and dragging herself across a room with some unearthly moan rattling between her lips. Not that such an image could ever detract from her actual appearance; stood now before him with a patient expression that said she still expected something no doubt gruelling of him, Lily still looked gorgeous, and it had been challenging enough as it was to not spend the entirety of the meeting just watching her.

She started to inch towards him, and James found himself stumbling backwards, as though she _had_ just become a boggart and started to come after him.

"Stop falling over the furniture," she scolded him, sending a tiny shiver of excitement down James' neck; he could not help it, but he loved it when she got a little frustrated.

"Let me out, then!"

Lily sighed. "I want you to do something, first."

James stared at her with widened eyes, but she continued before he got the chance to say anything.

"I just want you to come with me while I go to introduce myself to the new professor."

"What?" James had not even realised there was supposed to be a new professor on the train, and he certainly could not comprehend this strange request. "What do you mean? How do you know there's a new professor?"

Lily shrugged. "I heard a couple of students talking about him before I got to the meeting. They said they'd seen him alone, reading."

James scoffed. "He sounds fun," he muttered sarcastically, ploughing a hand through his hair and pulling it up through his fingers in an attempt to make it stand straight. He did not answer Lily straight away, taking the time to scrutinise her. He usually only had the chance to admire her from afar; whenever they were particularly near to one another, they were firing an endless barrage of snide remarks and – in her case - insults at one another, leaving very little time to stop and think. Her hair was shorter than he was used to, framing her face so that her large, green eyes drew most of the attention. She was wearing light Muggle clothes but also wore her school robes on top, unfastened and with the sleeves rolled up.

She frowned at him and he realised he probably ought to say something, before she decided to address the fact that he was quite blatantly checking her out.

"Why do you want to greet him, then?" he asked. "Surely we'll be introduced to him and everything when we get to the school."

"It's polite," Lily explained to him. "You wouldn't like it if you were completely ignored by all the students on your first day of school, would you?"

"But it's _not_ his first day! He's a teacher, not a student. He's already gone through school."

"Well," said Lily, pursing her lips, "it comes with your responsibility as Head Boy."

He rolled his eyes, waving the suggestion away. "Don't give me that."

"Well it's true. If you want people to take you seriously as Head Boy, you're going to have to show them that you can behave like one."

"To me, that just sounds like 'you have to be a suck-up to get people to like you'."

"James …" she said, looking impatient.

It was that more than anything else that made him give in to her. Six months ago, she would not have called him by his forename. Times had changed, though. Somehow, James had made himself more bearable in the eyes of Lily Evans. Admittedly they were not exactly friends, and they did not socialise together, but the fact that they no longer fingered their wands whenever they encountered each other, or had shouting matches across classrooms was a great achievement. Of course, that did not mean that they had stopped arguing altogether. A world where they did not argue at all would be a strange one indeed. Still, hearing his first name on her lips still was not something he was particularly used to. It sounded almost foreign.

He pushed his glasses up his nose and looked her directly in the face. "I have no choice, do I?" He sighed dejectedly. "It still seems very silly to me, but I'll do it … for you."

She narrowed her eyes at him for a second, and then gradually her mouth slid into a half-smile, and that seemed to make everything worth it. Without another word, she opened the door and led the way out of the carriage.

* * *

"That wasn't too bad" Lily said matter-of-factly as they left the teacher's compartment a short while later.

"I didn't say it was going to be _bad_. Just that it seemed pointless." James began picking at the wall of the train as they stood outside another compartment, slightly further up the carriage. Lily wanted to find her friends, but she felt inclined to at least politely bring an end to this conversation, although it was obvious James had other ideas.

"He seemed alright, I suppose," he muttered. He looked up at her, and not for the first time that day, Lily felt like she was being examined by him.

"I like your hair," he said eventually.

Taken aback, Lily subconsciously raised a hand to her head, and curled a lock of hair around her forefinger.

"Um … thanks. I got it cut."

He nodded, as though this made sense to him, then said, "wish I could do that."

That was quite a confusing thing for him to say. From what Lily knew, James was from quite a well-off family, to whom money was not a problem, so she doubted that he meant haircuts were of a financial issue to him.

"Why don't you?" she asked, for once genuinely intrigued by something to do with him.

"It never works," he muttered.

Puzzled by this peculiar response, Lily wondered how on earth she had managed to find her way into this conversation that seemed to be leading nowhere. James was acting rather unlike his usual boastful, cheery self, which was disconcerting to see, and Lily could not figure out if it was because of something that she had said, or if there was simply something rather pressing on his mind. Luckily, she was saved any more awkward conversation when they were approached by a girl a few years younger than they, who spoke rather insolently.

"You're the Head Girl, aren't you?" she asked. Without waiting for an answer, she continued, "I've got a note for you." She proffered a slip of parchment and as soon as Lily took it from her, turned and left without casting so much as a glance at James.

This unassuming turn of events, however, seemed to have fired him back to his usual self, and he grabbed the note before Lily had had a chance to even open it.

"What's this, then? Has Evans got a love letter?"

"From a fifteen year old girl?" Lily replied coolly.

James raised his eyebrows at her, and she knew it had been the wrong thing to say.

"Not a _bad_ scenario," he said suggestively.

"Just give it back, would you?"

He started to raise it up higher, but she knew what he was doing, and quickly added, "I'm not going to jump to reach it, Potter, so you might as well just give it to me."

James looked disappointed, but still held onto the parchment.

"Fine." Lily remained calm, but turned away, starting to leave him. "I'm not going to beg, so you just keep it. See if I care."

She had taken five steps before he called after her, and then she heard him follow, touching her elbow lightly to signal for her to turn back around and face him.

"It's from Slughorn," he said quite bashfully, holding the note out for her to take back, and then he walked straight past her and left her standing alone in the corridor. Bemused by what had just occurred, Lily unfolded the slip of parchment and glanced down to read it,

_Dear Lily,  
I would be very much obliged if you would grace me with your presence once again for a spot of lunch in compartment C.  
Sincerely, Professor H.E.F. Slughorn_

Lily felt a jolt of happiness at getting to see her fellow members of the Potions teacher's exclusive little club, though it was mingled with a sense of disappointment at having to wait even longer before getting to see her friends again. Promising herself that she would only stay at the lunch for a short while, she headed off towards compartment C, putting to rest the distracting thoughts that James Potter's strange behaviour had catalysed within her mind.

* * *

"I just don't understand it," James groaned.

"Don't worry about her," said Sirius, shuffling along the seat to sit nearer to his best friend. "Look, we bought you some food." He frowned for a moment, turning a cauldron cake around in his hands and perusing it from all angles, before looking back up at James. "You owe me two galleons and five sickles, but I'm knocking off the three knuts for you because you're my mate."

"Remus told us that Lily jumped you as soon as the meeting ended," Peter said, demolishing a chocolate frog with one swift bite. He had obviously decided to ignore Sirius' advice to drop the conversation.

"She didn't _jump_ me, she just wanted me to do a job. _Already_." James glanced at Remus who merely shrugged. Being a Prefect, Remus had been in the meeting too, but of course he had been free to leave at the end of it and join Sirius and Peter in their little sugar fest. James just could not believe how foolish he had felt when he had left Lily in that carriage. He had only meant to tease her, and fully intended to return her note, but somehow she had managed to completely rise above it and instead make him look like some petty schoolboy. A petty schoolboy with a mad crush, for that matter. He had never realised before how self-conscious he felt whilst talking to her, probably because he had never held so civil a conversation with her in his entire life. He had even felt ashamed for the first time ever about the messiness of his hair. He had tried to manage it in the past, but it seemed that some element of magic prevented that from ever being possible.

"Well, something has certainly changed between you two." Ever the diplomat, Remus had the logic of a Ravenclaw at times.

"Moony's right, mate," Sirius told him, nodding in agreement. "You didn't come back just now covered in boils, did you? I mean, do you remember that time when you embarrassed her in front of all those Hufflepuffs and she gave you a bright green beard that fell all the way to your knees?"

He and Peter guffawed at the memory, but James was shocked to discover that he did not find it particularly funny any more. "I recall," he said, "but you better forget it."

Sirius grinned. "Is that a threat?"

"Well, let's just say that I don't think a Memory Charm would go amiss."

Sirius laughed. The promise of a confrontation simply made him more excited. "You couldn't even get _near_ to performing it," he said, goading his friend on.

James was almost tempted to rise to the bait, as he always had been in the past, but he could not find it in him to play-fight with Sirius this time.

His best friend seemed to realise this when the taunt was not met with retaliation, and he frowned.

"Wow, she's really got to you this time, hasn't she? You know, I think when we get back to Hogwarts, we should kidnap us a Slytherin kid, take him out on a boat trip 'round the lake and feed him to the giant squid. That'll put you back on the right track." He grinned, and finally, James could not help but grin back at the joke.

"Yeah, maybe we'll get one of the first years, and scare them right into place."

Remus snorted at that, and James glanced across at his tired-looking friend.

"That will definitely cement Dumbledore's faith that you were the right choice for Head Boy," Remus said scathingly, folding up the newspaper he had been reading. "Whilst you're at it, you might as well burn McGonagall at the stake and see if he'll give you an award for services to the school." He bit his lip as though unsure if he should have said what he just had, but then continued, "I'm sorry James, but I think you need to be more careful this year. I know it sounds boring, but you've obviously been given this title for a reason," he indicated James' gleaming Head Boy badge that took pride of place over the breast pocket of his school robes. "We're not in first year any more, and frankly the world has changed quite a bit since we started school." He grimaced at that. "I know you feel embarrassed, but I actually think Lily could be a good influence on you this year. We could all do with growing up a little."

James heard Sirius let out a long groan from beside him.

"Seriously, Moony, sometimes I swear you're not the same age as us," he said, flicking his dark hair out of his eyes. "The things you come out with … it's like you're my parents, except you actually like me and you don't want me to be a Death Eater."

Peter let out a nervous chuckle at that, but Remus merely shrugged, as though he felt no need to explain himself to Sirius.

James cleared his throat. "I get what you're saying," he said eventually, meeting Remus' gaze. "And I suppose I agree, even though I don't want to. But can we have just one last fun train journey, like old times?"

A wolfish grin appeared on Remus's face as he put down his newspaper. "I certainly won't say no to that idea."

* * *

Always buzzing for a confrontation, Elayne strode purposefully up the train corridor, paying people no heed unless they specifically addressed her, in which case she waved them away without so much as a glance towards them. It was mid-afternoon now, about four o'clock, she thought, and she had started to get restless after being sat down for so many hours. With the exception of one trip to the loo, and getting up to buy some food from the lunch trolley, her legs had barely been stretched since she had got on the train, and were now beginning to ache quite painfully.

She had no clue where she was going, but she had an idea in her mind, and now she had to see it through. She stepped into another carriage, which seemed a lot quieter than the one she had just left; probably due to the fact that nobody else was in the corridor and most people had kept their compartment doors shut. Further up, however, there was a gap between the last compartment and the end of the carriage, where you could walk the whole width of the train, and see out of the windows on either side, and it was here that she found two students hidden around the corner; a blonde girl, maybe about fifteen, and Chris Murray, a sixth year Ravenclaw, leant against the wall right beside the girl and looking about as lecherous as Elayne had ever seen him.

"Oi," she growled at him.

He seemed alarmed by her presence, apparently having not heard her approach.

"Where's Jack?"

He surveyed her momentarily, as though considering not telling her, then jerked a thumb towards the adjoining carriage.

"Next compartment," he muttered, before turning back to the other girl.

Sure enough, when she glanced around the open door of the next compartment, she instantly spotted Jack. She didn't even have to signal to catch his attention; it was as though he had a radar tuned to locate her whenever she was nearby. As soon as he saw her, he got up and walked over without a word to his friends. She sidestepped to the other side of the door whilst he was blocking the view of her, and without a word, led him further up the train until – to her surprise – they found an empty compartment.

"Miss me already?" he teased, grinning as she shut the door behind her. "Good to see you've finally removed some of your clothing," he added as he looked her up and down, presumably referring to her jacket that she had eventually taken off when the train had warmed up some more.

"Shut your mouth, Jack," she snapped, anger instantly rising in her. She had had hours to stew over the situation he had forced her into, and it was clear by the expression on his face that he had not expected her to react to it in this way.

"You _knew_ why Dorcas was alone," she said, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "You knew, and you couldn't be arsed to tell me."

"Did you ask her?"

"No, of course I didn't _ask_ her. As if I would ask. Why would I ask? I don't _care_ if someone's sat alone, but I _do _care that you made it very awkward by getting me to go in there." She sighed, then added, "Amelia asked her, if you must know."

Jack seemed to survey her for a very long time, then he sat down, and Elayne felt strangely inclined to sit down too, even though she had been doing that for most of the day.

"I'm sorry,"he said, moving nearer to her.

She sighed again. "Yeah well that doesn't help, does it? The number of times I've heard you say that, Jack. You never even remotely mean it!"

"Babe, this time I do. I want to help her, I really do."

Elayne was confused. "Well then why didn't you just go and talk to her, if all you wanted was for her to have some company."

He shook his head. "We really don't see eye to eye. Surely you've seen us arguing before? She doesn't like me." He raised a hand to the side of Elayne's face, lifting a lock of hair over her shoulder, and tracing his forefinger back and forth along her earlobe.

"So why do you even care?"

Jack scoffed. "Because my best mate absolutely loves her to pieces, and she loves him just as much, and even if we don't get on, that makes her a good person. If I can at least make sure she's happy, it might just make him happy too. But I've obviously chosen the worst person for that, haven't I?"

She ignored his jibe. "So they're still in love with each other? Why did they break up?"

He shrugged. "I don't know." He clearly saw that she was about to speak again, because he added, " but they're not stupid. Whatever the reason, it must be something important, 'cos they're not the sort to be immature about that sort of thing."

For the first time in a long while, Elayne could think of nothing to say. Then, eventually, she muttered, "Dorcas is really hard to talk to, you know."

Jack smirked. "Did you ever consider that _you're_ the one that's hard to talk to?"

She looked curiously at him. "You're a prick. Not especially to anyone else; just me." She said this quite matter-of-factly.

"And you're a bitch. To everyone; not just me. Selfish, too."

Elayne hesitated for about a second, then grabbed Jack's t-shirt, pulled him forwards, and kissed him. For somebody who had received no warning, he reacted surprisingly smoothly, kissing her back almost instantly. Perhaps a lifetime of wanting her so badly meant that he was ultimately always prepared for this. His hand was still in her hair, and he slid it round her neck, as she tilted her head back slightly. She wanted to pull him closer, but the way they were sat meant she would fall onto her back. Not that that was a bad position to be in … But Jack rose up onto his knees instead, bringing her up with him, raising her arms with his, and she realised he wanted to undress her. She let him pull her top up as high as her shoulders before she finally decided that was enough, and pulled her mouth away from his, breathing heavily.

She kept her eyes shut still, knowing that if she opened them, then it would all be over and she would be back in the dated, oddly-furnished train compartment, just bypassing more boring fields.

"You just can't resist me, can you?" he murmured, his lips brushing against hers as he spoke, teasing her into almost kissing him again.

"Don't flatter yourself," she snorted. "It doesn't mean anything. I'm just horny."

She heard him smirk as he ran a warm hand down her side, until it stopped at her bare navel and stroked softly over her belly-button ring.

"I've not seen this before," he mused. He moved his head from hers, but before she had time to figure out what he was doing, he kissed her on the chest, right where her cleavage started, pressing her cold necklace into her skin.

"Jack!" She wriggled away from his mouth, her eyes finally blinking open. "For God's sake, I'm not going to have sex with you." Her top was still gathered around her neck, resting around her shoulders now that she had lowered her arms.

"I didn't even get to cop a feel," Jack said, staring at her chest, covered only by her bra, before glancing up at her, an eager look in his eyes, like a dog hoping its owner would throw a ball for it to retrieve. "Can I?"

Now quite annoyed again, Elayne shoved him away.

"You're such a creep. Leave them alone." She tugged at her top, pulling it back down. "I can't believe you started undressing me already. You know what they say about guys who don't waste time … Don't have much time to waste."

She exhaled frustratedly, and slumped back in the seat, now focusing on the wall opposite. "I can't believe this is all I did on my first day back to school. And we haven't even got there yet. How bad is that?"

"Back to Hogwarts ..."

Elayne scoffed. "Yeah. Thanks for the welcome(!)"


	2. The Old And The News

**Chapter Two**

_The Old and The News_

Although he was used to waking hours before lessons even began on school days – and earlier when he had Quidditch practice - Simon had grown used to having a regular lie-in over his summer holidays. When he awoke on the first morning back at Hogwarts, he spent a few minutes kicking about the sheets that had twisted around his legs in the night, and then fell back onto his pillows, determined to rest his eyes for just a few seconds more. Eventually, however, he became aware that somebody else in his dormitory was already awake and moving around. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up and drew his bed hangings partially open. The cool, fresh air from an open window hit him as he saw Jeremiah stood beside his own bed, arranging some clothing.

It was strangely comforting to Simon that their usual school routine was so easy to slip back into; Jeremiah was always the first to rise in their dormitory, and seeing the little things like that still occurring , even after months away, made Hogwarts feel very much like home at times.

Rising up from the four-poster bed, Simon made his way to his trunk, which he had not yet bothered to unpack, and started pulling clean clothes out from it. Jeremiah seemed to realise he was now not the only person out of bed and turned, momentarily distracted from what he was doing.

"Alright, mate?" Simon asked him, shooting a friendly grin at his dorm-mate, who nodded his head in acknowledgement.

Jeremiah looked quite tired, as though he had not slept much that night, but judging by his wet hair, had already been up long enough to have a shower and start getting dressed. He threw his blue-and-bronze-striped tie around his neck, then paused to rub his chin before loosely knotting the tie together. "Ready for Quidditch this year?" he asked Simon, as he casually tucked the skinny end of the tie out of sight under his shirt.

"Yeah, you got much planned?"

Jeremiah had been the captain of their house Quidditch team since the start of their sixth year, and seemed to take his responsibilities quite seriously, often putting the team through quite a gruelling training regime. Amelia regularly complained about this when Simon was left too tired to spend time with her and the others afterwards.

"Jack's been suggesting a few things ..." Jeremiah glanced over at Jack's bed, the curtains still drawn around it. "Try-outs should be interesting. I don't think Wes is going to be able to play, for a few weeks at least. Did you see his arm?" He winced. "It was in bandages until a week ago; there's no way he can risk proper contact with it at the moment. I can't put him out on a pitch with bludgers appearing out of nowhere at any minute."

"Yeah, I heard about that," Simon replied, scratching subconsciously at his own arm. "Gutted for him, though."

"I know, but he did at least say he doesn't expect to be able to play anyway, so he should be alright with it." Jeremiah shrugged, as though that was that, and nothing could be done about it. He began to roll up his shirt sleeves, to just above the elbow, and Simon took his lead and began to search for his own school uniform to get dressed into.

Once he had washed and dressed, Simon found his school bag, stuffed some blank parchment, his textbooks, a quill, and a half-used bottle of ink inside it, then left the dormitory and knocked on the door opposite, waiting in the low-lit corridor. Down the far end, a large bay window let in the early morning light, overlooking the lower floors of the West Wing of the school as it stretched north towards the greenhouses. For now, the corridor was quiet; probably very few students had left their dormitories just yet.

After a moment, the seventh-year-girls' dormitory door was opened, and Simon was met by the sight of an already dressed Dorcas, hair held back in one hand.

"Er, hi. Is anyone awake?" Simon grinned sheepishly. He had forgotten that she was an early riser too; often she and Jeremiah would be already at breakfast in the Great Hall before most others had even awoken. How awkward, knowing that they had both resumed their usual morning practice, but for the first time in years would not be going to breakfast together. Simon wondered if either of them had realised that the other was probably at that moment right on the other side of the corridor, readying for the day without them.

Dorcas, however, glanced behind her, surveying her bedroom.

"Everyone except Elayne," she replied. Did you want to come in?" She opened the door wider, and he slipped through. Their dormitory was darker than his at this time of day, even with the curtains drawn, but in the evenings held a glorious view of the setting sun.

Currently the room was a lot busier than his own, however, with Amelia sat on the edge of her bed, rummaging through drawers on her bedside table, Katie making her bed, and Gina – their fifth dorm member – putting on make-up. Only Elayne was not visible, seemingly still hidden within the confines of her four-poster bed.

As Dorcas returned to her own bed, picking up a small mirror, Simon approached Amelia's, which was only metres from the door, on the right. He had a grin ready on his face for the moment she looked up and realised he was there.

"Morning," he said cheerfully as he reached her.

She looked up, slightly flustered looking and he could not help but feel a little disappointment at her lack of excitement.

"Hi, do you think we're going to have Charms today? I really can't be bothered with all these textbooks." She indicated a pile of books beside her on the bed, each required for the five subjects she studied.

"Don't bother with it. You can just share mine if we do." Simon met her gaze for a moment, then she frowned and looked back to what she was doing.

"Yeah, okay, that makes it easier. What about Potions?"

"Just share all of mine, Amelia," said Simon, taking two of the books from her before she could put them in her bag. He leant across her and placed them down on her bedside table.

She nodded as he sat down, and put the rest of her books with them, except for her copy of _Asiatic Anti-Venoms_.

"What about that one?" Simon asked.

Amelia bit her lip. "I need that a minute." She glanced around the room, then beckoned Simon further onto her bed, drawing the curtains around them on one side. "Promise you won't say anything if I show you."

Their eyes met and although Simon said nothing and gave no indication of making any promise, she seemed to know that he would say nothing anyway. She opened the book cover and took out a photo, handing it to Simon, who found himself looking at it for quite a while before he realised what it was of.

"That's- is that Elayne?"

Amelia took his hand away from the edge of the photograph.

"Yes, but look who she's with," she said quietly. "That's definitely Jack, right?"

Simon nodded slowly. The people in the photo were unmistakeably Jack and Elayne; despite the fact their faces were hidden by one another in their rather intimate embrace, he could still see that.

"It doesn't look really recent, though ..."

"No, Elayne hasn't had her hair like that for at least a year. But I never knew she had got on with Jack _that_ well. I mean, I know they used to get on alright, _years_ ago, but nowadays she's always trying to avoid him, or just having a go at him." Amelia took the photo and slipped it back into the book, which she slid under her pillows. "I don't get it."

"I'm surprised I haven't heard him boasting about this in the dorm," Simon muttered. "He usually comes in and goes on about it when he gets with someone." He looked at the spot where the book had disappeared under the pillows. "Where'd you get the photo, then?"

"I don't know. I found it in the book when I was packing my trunk the other night. I've never even see it before in my life." Amelia bit her lip.

"Well … maybe Elayne misplaced it or something, or it just got put there by accident."

"Yeah, that's what I assumed. That's why I just wanted to give it back to her." She jerked her head in the direction of Elayne's bed, straight across the room, "but typically she's not awake yet, and I didn't get the chance last night."

At that moment, they heard the dormitory door shut, and Amelia quickly stuck her head around the side of her bed.

"Who just left?" Simon heard her say aloud, then, "Katie, was that Dorcas?"

"Yeah, I think she's gone for breakfast." Katie's voice came from behind Simon, from where her bed was.

Amelia slid off her bed, paced to the door, and opened it to stick her head out into the corridor, but apparently Dorcas had already gone out of sight, for Amelia shut the door again seconds later and crossed the room to one of the windows.

"She should have waited for us, bless her," she said. "I feel really uncomfortable with her not having anyone to be with."

"Well I'm nearly ready to go down, if you are," Katie suggested as Amelia reopened the curtains at one window, while Gina dealt with those at the other.

"Yeah, I just need to finish getting ready." Amelia glanced at Simon as she returned to him and her bed. "Could you grab my purse?"

Looking around him, Simon saw her leather purse on the bedside table, and reached for it.

"You got much in there?" he asked, laughing, as he passed it to her. He had to shift the weight of it in his hand, not expecting it to be as hefty as it was.

"My parents gave me some money," Amelia replied, somewhat defensively as she snatched the purse from his outstretched arm.

"Yeah? Their whole life savings?" he joked. The look on her face, however, suggested that she had not found the comment particularly amusing.

"You can talk," she muttered, stuffing the purse into her school bag. "Says the one whose mum bought him a new broomstick because the tail twigs were out of alignment on his old one." She did not rejoin him on the bed and he leant forward, a frown stretched across his brow as he realised she was not happy.

"Hey, I didn't say that." Simon had mentioned during their train journey that he had a new broomstick, though now wondered if Amelia had been listening to the story properly. "It wasn't out of alignment; it was being unresponsive sometimes, so my mum said she would buy me a new one. I didn't _ask_ her for it."

He was used to bickering with her, almost on a daily basis, but it still annoyed him that she had once again criticised Quidditch, when she had always made it perfectly clear that she did not care about the sport. For somebody who claimed disinterest, she certainly attacked him plenty times enough over his own interest in it. The truth was, if he made a joke about her, then she hated not getting her own way over it. She had seemed happy to see him the previous day – she _had_ kissed him, and with no explanation – but now she had got over the initial excitement of seeing everybody and returning to school, she had reverted back to her spoilt ways, and as per usual was only taking it out on him. Simon took a deep breath, silently reminding himself that she was his best friend, and that ignoring her when she was like this was the best way for it to end.

As she shook her head, muttering to herself, and wandered over towards Katie, Simon got up.

"I'm going to see if Paul's up," he said, although he did not expect a response, and he headed towards the dormitory door.

* * *

"Are you guys arguing already?"

Katie's question was unexpected, in that she and Amelia had been lightly conversing about school and lessons, so far, as they made their way down to the Great Hall. Moments after Simon had left their dormitory, Amelia had convinced Katie that it was time for breakfast, and they had left without waiting for him to return. Amelia had not realised that her friend had overheard any of the disagreement she had had with Simon, however.

"Arguing? With who?" she asked. It was worth feigning innocence to start with. They paused at the bottom of a staircase halfway down the castle's main stairwell, a huge wide-open tower filled with swinging steps and small platforms appearing at least _somewhere_ on all of the floors. Slowly, another staircase curved around to join with theirs, and they continued onto it, hurrying down before it started moving again; the sensation of flying sideways whilst also moving down was always quite disconcerting for Amelia, who had no love for heights as it was.

"You and Simon. Don't pretend you weren't bickering; I could tell something was going on, from across the room, even if I couldn't hear what it was about."

From the corner of her eye, Amelia noticed her friend scrutinising her, but she kept her focus on where she was going, grappling with the subconscious fear that the stairs would trip her up at any moment.

"He was just being unreasonable," she replied dismissively. "He made a fuss about my parents giving me money, but did you know he has a new broomstick that his mum bought for him? Apparently his other one wasn't perfect any more ..."

"Not this again," Katie groaned. Amelia had no idea what she was on about. She had not even mentioned this until now.

"Hey, he started it. All I did was point out how hypocritical he was being, which he _always_ is." Amelia did not mention then how awkward she had felt earlier that morning, when Simon had entered their dormitory, sat with her, whispering in the privacy of her bed hangings. They had done that countless times in the past – it was not new – but never before had she kissed him not long before, as she had done just the previous day. She had been fine on the train: distracted by everything going on around them; always talking to somebody; sharing a joke; eating food, but the moment she had gone to bed, her thoughts had caught up with her, and she remembered what she had done, and realised how confused everything would become as a result of it. They had always been tactile with one another, but there had always been a boundary. Kisses were always on the cheek, or the top of the head. Now that lips had contacted lips, in the most spontaneous way that they could have done, there were going to be questions that needed answering, and Amelia did not have those answers.

She sighed. "I suppose I should have just let him be. It _is_ our first day back. I don't want to put him off." Or rather, confuse him with mixed signals, as she no doubt was doing.

Katie let out a short laugh, and rubbed Amelia's arm briefly with her hand to placate her.

"Don't worry about it. At least he's used to it, I suppose."

They soon reached the Great Hall, filled with about half of the student body, and nearly all of the teachers. It was noisy, but not yet raucous; that happened when the owl post arrived, and when everybody attempted to see as many friends as they could before the day's lessons started.

Making their way past the Slytherin house table, the two girls scanned their own, looking for somewhere to sit down that would have space enough for the rest of their friends when they were eventually joined by them. Katie noticed Dorcas, but she was surrounded by a group of younger students already. Amelia spotted two students that were unmistakeably first years, sat at the very start of the Ravenclaw table and eyeing everything that went on around them with twitchy nervousness, as though expecting at any moment something to jump out and harm them.

Smiling to herself, she led Katie past them, to a point about halfway up the table, and settled down where a large plate of croissants were served before her.

"Do you ever miss first year? How easy it was ..."she murmured, remembering how intimidating everything had been on their first few days at school. She picked up one of the croissants and began to slice it open with her knife.

Katie seemed to ponder this for a moment. "Sometimes. But I think more because we're at the end of our years here, than because I wish we could relive it all again. I just want the safety of school, and lessons, and routine to continue until I'm happy to leave it behind, rather than simply having no choice but to leave it behind. I hate the thought of doing all the basic level work again, though. Simple charms, and all those easy potions … I would get so bored, can you imagine me?"

Amelia did laugh at the thought. Katie was the archetypal Ravenclaw; she loved work that challenged her, loved learning.

"Well, it would set me back another seven years on becoming a Healer, I guess," she realised, spreading jam into her croissant. "Looks like we're just going to have to accept change is coming and get on with our lives."

A little while later, once they had both finished eating, they were joined by Simon and Paul, who sat down opposite them. Simon looking gingerly across at Amelia.

"I didn't realise you were going to breakfast without us," he said softly. "You weren't around any more, by the time we got back to your room."

Amelia bit her lip. "Sorry. I was hungry."

Simon quietly stared across at her for a while, his eyes boring into her own, then eventually he began to pile food onto his plate, spearing sausages with his fork with a force that almost made Amelia flinch. Seeking distraction, she looked up the table and laid eyes once again upon Dorcas.

With guilt setting in, Amelia stood up and clambered back over the bench.

"I'll be back in a minute," she muttered, and then she made her way up the table to where her other dorm-mate sat, twirling a fork around her plate.

"Dorcas?" Amelia said tentatively as she reached her.

The other girl jolted, then turned, and a tentative smile crept onto her lips.

"Sorry, I was just seeing how you were." Amelia didn't know how else to say it.

"Oh, I'm fine."

"I just- You know you don't have to sit here on your own, right? You're welcome to join us, if you like. I don't know how you're planning on spending the year, but I just feel awful if you're all on your own."

Dorcas seemed unsure but nodded in acknowledgement. "Thank you … I'll bear it in mind."

Wondering if she ought to try harder at convincing, Amelia stood there awkwardly for a while, before realising that it was unrealistic to assume anything would change just yet.

"Umm, okay, well I'll see you later, then." She slowly made her way back to the others, who she now saw had been joined by Elayne. The late-comer had taken Amelia's seat next to Katie, and was looking rather sullenly up at Professor McGonagall who was stood behind Simon and Paul. The professor was looking down her nose in return, and did not seem impressed.

"... _definitely_ not standard uniform," McGonagall was saying, while Simon and Paul seemed to be trying to lean as far away from her as possible, though by the looks of concentration on each of their faces, they were listening very intently to her.

"That aside, here are your timetables for this year," McGonagall continued, and then, as she caught sight of Amelia, added, "ah, Miss Burke. I have yours also." She leafed through the sheets of parchment in her hand, then proffered one to Amelia, who silently accepted it.

As the professor continued on up the table, Elayne let out a long sigh, both of her hands at her ear, fiddling with something, until she eventually realised Amelia was stood behind her. She tipped her head back, grinning.

"Where've you been, missus?"

"I just went to speak to Dorcas. I was saying to Katie earlier that I don't like the thought of her sat all alone the whole time, so I wanted to see that she was okay."

"Yeah ..." Elayne nodded, then turned back to Katie, which meant that she had no interest in where that conversation could lead.

Amelia bit her lip and looked down at her timetable. She had double Potions, after a free period first. Just her luck; she had left her textbooks in the dormitory, after Simon had said to share his. Well, there was no way she was doing that now. She would just have to go back up to collect them before the lesson started.

She glanced back down at her friends and saw Elayne place a pair of huge, silver hooped earrings on the table, and realised that McGonagall must have instructed her to remove them from her ears. That would not last long.

"I can't believe how early you lot all left this morning," Elayne said. "When I woke up, I was alone with _Gina_." She made no attempt to lower her voice as she said this, and Amelia grimaced as she saw that their other dorm-mate, Georgina, was sat only a few places further down the table, though she made no sign that she had overheard her name being spoken, or what had been said of it.

"She'll probably report back to Emma with 'Elayne was a lazy arse, this morning'." Elayne mimicked a squeaky, mocking voice and rolled her eyes at the thought.

"Elayne, I'm sure she doesn't 'report' anything to Emma ..." Katie started.

Elayne shook her head. "'Course she does. It's Emma."

Amelia could not pretend to know what her friend meant by that comment, so she squeezed herself on the bench beside her. It was hard, as she had been left little room, but eventually she managed, with one leg closely coiled around her friend's own.

Elayne giggled at this as she poured herself some coffee.

"This is cosy," she murmured, then a moment later, a great cacophony of sound enraptured the Great Hall, as the post owls flew in, and combined with the general chatter and clatter that accompanied hundreds of students sitting down for a meal. The owls swooped low over their heads, dropping envelopes and parcels everywhere, their recipients including Simon – whose letter dropped onto his head, then fell to the floor, prompting Amelia to let out an ill-advised snicker – and Katie, who had a subscription to the Daily Prophet, and was now unfolding that morning's edition of the newspaper.

"Oh ..." She let out a groan as her eyes fell upon the front cover. Amelia leant across Elayne to look at it.

'_DEATH EATERS SUSPECTED IN MUGGLE ATTACKS_' the huge, bold headline read, layered over a large photograph of a town square that was ominously bedecked with the Dark Mark hovering high above the centre of it. Amelia felt her stomach flip at the sight of the mark. It was becoming an all-too-familiar sight these days, left behind at the aftermath of Death Eater attacks that were increasingly more frequent. Just months earlier, the news had reported the killing of a young Ministry worker, with very little understanding still of _why_ he had been targeted.

"'_The Daily Prophet reports that multiple attacks occurred throughout the country, on the morning of 1__st__ September, targeting a number of Muggles in their own public spaces. Currently, thirteen deaths have been verified, and a further six victims have been admitted to St. Mungo's Hospital for treatment. The identities of the perpetrators of these attacks are not yet known, but the Ministry of Magic's Auror Office is utilising all of its resources to uncover this information as soon as possible'_. I can't believe this." Katie seemed unable to read any more of the article.

"They're attacking Muggles now?" Simon said in disbelief. "I mean, I know they hate them, but … they can't actually harm us. What's the use?"

"It's probably the start of some genocide, whatever they're planning," Katie said, her voice dripping with disgust.

Amelia felt inclined to agree with her, however frightening the thought was, but she was distracted by Elayne pressing her face close to the side of her own, and before Amelia could turn, she felt her friend's tongue slide across her cheek.

"Elayne!" She jolted away, overcome with surprise at her friend's action at this decidedly odd time.

Elayne laughed to herself. "Sorry, you were getting in my way and I was trying to put my earrings back in. McGonagall's nowhere near us now." For Elayne this was reason enough to double-back on what she had been instructed to do by the professor.

Amelia ignored the patch of her cheek that now felt cold and wet, and shook her head at her friend, though she said nothing. Elayne always had to make some sort of joke of every situation, such as this discovery of bad news, as though she could not commit to taking a moment to reflect on it. Many people interpreted this as a lack of respect for others, and plain, simple rudeness. Amelia herself did not know how to interpret it. She took several deep breaths, then looked back to her timetable for need of a distraction.

"I think I'm going back up to the dormitory for first period," she said. "I've still got unpacking to do."

* * *

Keeping her head low, Dorcas found herself eating a large breakfast. Apart from Amelia's brief visit, food and drink were the only things to keep her occupied as she sat alone until, finally, Professor McGonagall – who was responsible for handing out timetables to all of the students – reached her. With no more than a cursory acknowledgement of Dorcas' presence and a brief, praising comment on her progress in Transfiguration – McGonagall's own subject - the Professor handed her timetable over then continued on her way.

Putting down her mug of tea, Dorcas examined her schedule for the week, and was discomforted to find that her first lesson of the day also happened to be the one for which she had her smallest class. That would not have bothered her, except she had always worked with Jeremiah in that class. Always. For both of them, it was their best and favourite subject. It was how, all those years ago, they had started to bond and begun to form their relationship. And now she had ended it, and could not bear the thought of having to face him. She had barely seen him since their return; she had caught sight of him on the platform at Hogsmeade, very briefly, and then again as he had passed through the Common Room later that night, but they had not yet been close together in one another's company.

Realising that she had not yet seen him at breakfast, she raised her head and glanced very casually up and down the table, but in so brief a look that she did not spot him, and she did not dare look again.

She pushed away her plate, finally acknowledging that she had eaten more than enough. She stood up, slipping her timetable into her over-the-shoulder bag and quickly made her way down the table, passed the Slytherins, and then paused in the Entrance Hall. There was still a while remaining until first period started; plenty enough time to go outside and get some fresh air to clear her head. She strode across the flagstone floor towards a door opposite her, and entered the main ground floor corridor. The corridor was lined with unused classrooms and she had long suspected that most students did not bother to enter it unless they wished to enter the courtyard she was now heading for, or were simply taking a very roundabout route to the North Tower. It was not surprising that she was the only person in there.

It did not take her long to get outside, exiting at the far end of the corridor onto the stone verandah that edged around the walls of the courtyard. The sun was just breaking over the east wing of the school, though where she stood, the stone was cool to the touch, not yet long out of the shadows. Where a break along the verandah occurred, Dorcas stepped down on to the grass and took a moment to look around. On the far side of the courtyard, two girls were sat on a bench near the entrance from the western-most wall of the school, the North Tower soaring up many floors behind them.

Knowing the more private areas of the school grounds had never seemed more useful than now to Dorcas, who wanted nothing more than a moment to escape. Across the courtyard, and through the garden gate that was nestled in an archway on the side of the school, were the greenhouses, where – of the staff – only Professor Sprout ventured frequently. As a result, it was usually a very quiet spot where somebody who did not want to be disturbed by teachers could spend some time. Often students would go there to do things the school rules did not permit them to, hidden in another arch in the wall, and not immediately visible from the greenhouses. Sure enough, when Dorcas reached the area, she spotted a small group of people huddled in the archway. As soon as they heard somebody approaching, the three girls of the group turned, though not so quickly as to arise too much suspicion, but in a way that suggested intrigue. One of them was a seventh year, from Hufflepuff, whom Dorcas recognised from some of her classes.

She smiled as Dorcas approached them, and the others relaxed a little, going back to their own quiet conversation. They were not so familiar, though Dorcas estimated them to probably be only a year or two below her. The girl that she did know, Josie, turned round to face her fully.

"Hey Dorcas," she greeted her. "Up to much?"

As they exchanged pleasantries, Dorcas saw out of the corner of her eye that both Josie and one of the other girls were clutching a cigarette each. They seemed to realise it was safe to have them on display once it had become apparent that Dorcas was not there to get them in trouble, though the two younger girls still eyed her cautiously.

She leant back against the wall beside Josie, who took a drag on her cigarette.

"Did you hear about the attacks?" Josie asked, eyeing her.

Fear drowned Dorcas' heart as she found herself simply staring back, unsure of how to answer.

"New attacks, just yesterday," Josie elaborated, answering Dorcas' unvoiced question. "Me and Dan just read about it, in the _Prophet_," she said, indicating the fourth person in the archway. He looked on edge, his downcast eyes focusing on his feet, which he shifted constantly in the gravel stones they stood on.

"Do they know who was targeted?" Dorcas found herself asking Josie, her voice slightly hoarse. "Is it Ministry workers? Aurors?"

"That's just it," replied the Hufflepuff, grimacing. "So far, only Muggle deaths have been reported. That's why we came out here; we haven't heard from our families, our friends … we don't know where the attacks were. _Anyone_ could have been harmed. I just needed to get away, you know. Have a smoke, calm my nerves. Then we found Amy and Helen already here, for the same reason." She indicated the other two girls.

Dorcas looked around at the whole group. "You're all Muggle-borns?"

They all murmured in affirmation.

"Shit ..." Dorcas said softly as it suddenly sank in just how terrified these people probably were. If they were all from Muggle families, then their parents would not have their own owls with which they could have sent a message overnight, and that was assuming that they even knew of what was going on. The Muggle authorities and news sources would probably have no idea what the true nature of the attacks was.

"My family should be alright," said the girl that had been introduced as Amy, as she dropped her cigarette butt to the ground and trod it into the ground. "They live in the middle of nowhere; nobody could ever be arsed to go looking for them." She let out a little laugh, but Dorcas got the impression that she was trying to convince herself of her family's safety, more than anybody else.

The other girl, Helen, slipped her hand into her friend's and they exchanged a look, then Amy began to lead her friend out of the archway.

"Anyway, we've got to go," she announced. "We're all the way over in Charms for first period." The two friends bid their goodbyes to Dorcas and the others then left, still holding hands for a few paces until they reached the gate back to the courtyard and broke apart.

Josie watched after them until they disappeared, then turned back to Dorcas, proffering her half-burnt cigarette.

"Did you want this? I'm alright now."

Dorcas eyed the offering. It was a Muggle cigarette, though the theory behind smoking it was the same, even if their brands provided less variety than the ones she had grown up knowing. She had not smoked a cigarette since she was about fourteen, but right now it seemed to be just what she needed; something to assuage her worries, and as Josie had put it, calm her nerves.

"Thanks ..." she muttered, taking it. She eyed Josie for a moment and finally she decided to ask something that had been playing on her mind since she had first seen the Hufflepuff huddled under the archway. "Hey … how's Coral, do you know?"

Josie seemed unsure how to answer. "Have you guys had a falling out?" she asked, her eyes narrowing just slightly. Apparently the response to this question would determine how Dorcas' own would be answered.

Dorcas took a frantic puff on the cigarette. "We- I'm just trying to make sure she's safe. I can't talk about it." She refused to explain any more, even if it meant the Hufflepuff girl would remain tight-lipped.

Josie still looked unsure, but she nodded. "Well, she's been alright, I guess. I haven't seen much of her since we got back, but … she's been pretty quiet."

Dorcas frowned down at the gravelled ground. She could hear Dan talking softly, and then saw him move out of the corner of her vision. As she looked up, he began to leave through the gate to the courtyard. Josie hesitated.

"We're going to send owls back home," she told Dorcas. "I want to let my parents know what's going on, check they're alright."

"Yeah of course. Um … thanks." Dorcas indicated the cigarette, raising it.

Josie smiled. "No problem. See you later, Dorcas."

"Yeah ..." Dorcas sank back into the wall, breathing out smoke. She had no idea of the time, but estimated that it was probably only a matter of minutes before first period started.

She wanted to find out more about these attacks on the Muggles. Presumably somebody would leave a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ lying around in the Common Room at some point, and then she could read the article that Josie had mentioned.

There was barely anything left of the cigarette now, so she took one last drag and stubbed it out against the wall before dropping it to the floor, taking her time to slowly breathe out the smoke, letting it consume her as she tried to keep her calm and order her thoughts.

It was expected that the nature of these attacks would worsen, and that they would become more frequent, but Dorcas had not considered that they would head in this new direction. Now she wondered why. Everyone knew the Death Eaters hated anything to do with Muggles. It was naïve to think they would not target those that could not do magic, if they were already targeting those that could.

She slid down the wall, until she was crouched at its base, her knees under her chin. She wrapped her arms around her legs, trying to fight against her shaking torso as dread and fear threatened to overwhelm her. All she wanted was to be with Jeremiah, in his arms; to feel his hands stroke across her arms, her shoulders, her neck, and she hated how her thoughts were so simple and immature in such an awful time. All she could hope for now was his safety, by staying away from him. He would be in their Ancient Runes classroom now, she realised. The lesson had probably started. Deep down, she knew that she had never intended to go to it, but truanting could not serve as a long-term solution to her problems.

Pulling her robes around her, she nestled her cheek on top of her knees, looking across at the North Tower, but not actually seeing it. She knew that Jeremiah would have something to say about her absence from their lesson, but for that moment, she was just a girl sat in the shadow of Hogwarts school, alone with her thoughts, and exactly that: alone.

* * *

"What've you got for me, then?" Elayne asked Amelia, without any sort of prelude, as they reached the top of the staircase that led from their Common Room up to the walkway around the Ravenclaw Tower. She could tell by the look on her friend's face, however, that Amelia was completely nonplussed by the question. In all fairness, they had just been discussing their timetables, so the confusion was not surprising, but Elayne never bothered to give warning when she was about to change the topic of conversation.

"You said yesterday," she said, taking care to elaborate as she led the way into the antechamber that connected to their corridor of dormitories, "that you had something to give to me. Something you found?"

Amelia's eyes widened, and she glanced around them. Katie was flanking her other side, but both Simon and Paul had decided to stay downstairs in the Common Room. Satisfied that nobody else was nearby, Amelia nodded.

"Yeah, I'll show you in a sec."

They made their way into the long, dark-walled corridor. Except for one window that sat ensconced in the far wall right at the end, most of the minimal lighting was provided by wall-mounted lanterns above each dormitory door. Elayne was always impressed by things like this; in the Muggle world, the lights would have only remained for as long as the candles, but here, magic kept them lit permanently, without the candles ever wearing down. Still, that did leave the concept of Advent candles as rather obsolete, she realised.

Amelia opened the door to their dormitory and made her way over to her bed, plumping up her pillows.

"I'm glad we've got a free first," Elayne said aloud as Katie shut the door. "I really couldn't be bothered to take my bag down to breakfast this morning." Instinctively, she glanced around the room to check if Gina was in there, then – satisfied that she was not – went to look out of one of the windows, both of which were positioned on either side of Gina's bed, along the outer wall. Far below, in the school grounds, she could see a group of younger students slowly crossing the lawn, presumably to a Care of Magical Creatures lesson, still enveloped in the great shadow cast by the castle as the sun slowly rose behind them. When the sun set facing the west wing of the school, where Ravenclaw Tower was situated, the light it shone into their dormitory was so blinding that they usually had to draw their curtains in the early evening, hours before it was actually dark. It was well argued throughout the school, however, that Ravenclaw House had the best views.

Turning away from the window, Elayne shifted her focus on the desk that sat in the corner of the room, a few metres from Dorcas' four-poster bed.

"Hey, do you guys want the desk turned around again?" she asked, pulling her wand out of her robes. Every time they left school for the summer holidays, the room would get tidied by house elves and returned to its original state, which included moving the desk back into the corner it was currently lodged in. As per mutual agreement between the five girls, however, it was moved away from the walls during term time, to allow for more people to sit at it at any one time.

Without waiting for a reply from either Amelia or Katie, Elayne pointed her wand at the desk, standing back from it, and with a swish and flick of her wrist, muttered, "_Wingardium Leviosa!_" and the desk began to rise. Her wand-work was clumsy, as was often the case, and the desk knocked into the wall, but it remained intact, and she managed to turn it around and lower it back to the ground in its new place. She slipped out of her robes, slinging them over the tabletop.

Amelia joined her and drew up one of the ladder-backed chairs, holding out a photo face-down on the desk as she sat down.

Intrigued, Elayne turned it over. She was never one to express much shock at anything, but it took a lot to fight the gasp that almost escaped her lips when she saw what the photo was of.

"Where did you get this?"

Amelia pursed her lips quite visibly, and Elayne was surprised to see her look so uncomfortable.

"I don't know," Amelia said. "I found it in a book when I was packing my trunk the other day. I honestly had never seen it before, Elayne."

Bringing it nearer for closer inspection, Elayne found her mind racing. Though their faces in the photograph were both blocked, it was quite clearly of herself and Jack. Her and Jack, engaged in a rather passionate kiss, from the looks of it, and both sat down from what she could tell. It looked like quite a sexy moment, she thought, not that she could remember it.

"I'm so confused," she said. "This has got to be a year or two old at least; my hair hasn't been that long for ages now." She squinted at the photograph, hopelessly hopeful that some previously unobserved detail would become apparent and reveal to her when and where the photo was taken. Even her clothes gave nothing away; she was wearing a black sleeveless top and tight jeans, from what she could see: nothing about that suggested any particular occasion.

Who was she kidding? As if a kiss with Jack would denote any special occasion anyway.

"Anyway, we weren't even that old when we-" Elayne stopped herself just as she realised what she was saying, still frowning at the photograph. "Well, I need to find out who put this in your book," she announced to her friend, waving the offending article at her.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, if you've never seen it before, then someone planted it." Elayne scoffed. "Everyone knows I wouldn't want something like this to get out. I'm a bloody easy target, Amelia. They obviously didn't consider that I wouldn't even remember it, though," she added, laughing, as she realised the humour of the situation. "Still ..." she could not help but grin at the image contained in the photo, which was now branded onto her mind's eye. "I look pretty hot there, right? And look at him, with his hand in my hair ..." She tilted her head to one side as she analysed the picture, unable to stop feeling a hint of fondness for the thought of Jack's touch, like that which she had felt just yesterday on the train, even though she had been the one to put an end to that. No, it was not fondness; it was more an appreciation. Jack seemed to know what she liked.

"I never realised we looked that good together." She raised her eyebrows suggestively at Amelia as she stuffed the photo in the wand pocket of her robes, which she then left slung across the table.

"What- so you admit that you've kissed him before, even though you can't remember the particular occasion in that photo?" Her friend seemed to have taken it upon herself to carry out a full investigation.

Elayne made her way over to her bed as she realised that this time she had not managed to prevent herself from letting that key little detail slip. There was nothing she could do to hide it now!

"Yeah, I guess," she said, shooting her friend a wicked grin over her shoulder.

"But- I thought you hate him. Or—well, I dunno, but I've never seen you treat him kindly."

Elayne threw herself back onto her mattress, laughing. If she had hated Jack, he definitely would not have any cause to be wasting all the time that he did on chasing her.

"Nah, I don't hate him, babe," she replied. "This was ages ago, mind, but really he just won't bloody leave me alone. It's just easier to take the piss out of him all the time, rather than be nice. Where's the fun in that?" In all fairness, Jack did give as good as he got, although that only ever served to encourage Elayne further in treating him the way that she did.

She propped herself up against her pillows, surveying the two girls across the room; Amelia had returned to her own bed. "You've been very quiet, Katie," Elayne teased.

The tall blonde looked up at the mention of her name, and Elayne wondered if she had even heard any of the conversation that had just taken place.

"You know me," Katie said shortly as she folded up a cardigan from her trunk. "I try to avoid all the drama in life."

Elayne was not sure if this was meant to be some sort of veiled insult. She and Katie were not exactly close, and had very little in common, but so far they had got on and had never fought, though Elayne often considered the possibility that Katie always held back from arguing for Amelia's sake.

Elayne smiled the comment away however. "What's life without drama?" she murmured.

The other two did not seem to hear her. Either that or they chose to ignore her comment, for Amelia then said to Katie, "oh, I've decided to still talk to Simon for now, by the way."

Elayne rolled her eyes, but tilted her head so that the others could not see. She had not realised that anything had caused Amelia to not wish to speak to Simon, but it was nothing new if that was the case. The amount those two bickered, then fell out, she was surprised that they had not had it off with each other a thousand times over by now. Certainly she herself could not have dealt with all that tension in any other way.

Katie seemed to find the situation funny at any rate. She grinned across Amelia's bed at her. "What made you change your mind, then? Or did you just realise how ridiculous the argument was?"

"Erm, no." Amelia gave a nervous laugh. "I'm just going to drop it for a few days. It seems a bit insensitive while everyone's just finding out about these attacks. I suppose it seems a bit trivial by comparison."

Elayne jolted upright at that. She had barely paid attention at breakfast when the others had been discussing it, but now that she actually thought about the attacks, she realised that the _Prophet_ had mentioned that they had been on Muggles. Muggles, like her family.

"Katie!" she called across the room, the urgency in her voice alarming the other two enough to cause them to spin round and face her. "Do you have the newspaper? Is it up here?"

Katie frowned, but nodded in response. "Yeah, it's ..." she cast her gaze towards her bedside table, then spotted it and picked it up only to fling it across the room at Elayne, "... here."

Elayne crawled to the foot of her bed where the rolled-up newspaper had landed, and opened it up, spreading it out across her quilt. The photo on the front page was of a town square that she did not recognise. That was a good start. She scanned the text for names. Of people, of places; both were important. Two deaths in Hertfordshire. An exploding car in Yorkshire. A shop destroyed in Kent. Elayne tried not to grow more and more frustrated at the lack of information in the newspaper. Why did it not say that Essex was unaffected?

"Is this all there is?" she asked loudly, waving the newspaper at her two dorm-mates. "Just three pages? It doesn't tell me anything!"

"They can only report what they know, Elayne," Katie said, more than a little patronising. "What's been verified." She looked at Amelia, who spoke up before Elayne could voice a retort.

"There should be more news tomorrow, Elayne. I'm sure it's being fully investigated right now."

"Yeah, but how do I know they're not dead?"

Amelia was clearly shocked by this outburst, evidenced by her blinking eyes, but she remained calm. "If you're really worried about your family, why don't you write to them?" she suggested. Family had not been mentioned, but clearly Amelia knew exactly what was bothering Elayne at that moment. "An owl should get there by tonight," she added.

Elayne scoffed but just about managed to not bite back. Owl post was faster than the Muggle postal service but it still was not instantaneous. What was wrong with a telephone? All it would take was one quick phone call and then she would know if Shannon and Meryl were safe. She sighed, throwing the newspaper back onto the bed, and got up.

"Fine," she muttered. "I'll go find an owl."

**End of Chapter**


	3. You Know Who

**Chapter Three**

_You Know Who_

It came as little surprise that the bombastic start to the school year was swiftly followed by a quiet, tense weekend; a far more muted affair. Many of the students awaited more news of the attacks – from both their relatives and the Daily Prophet, which ultimately published very little new information on the Saturday morning. Like Elayne and – following suit – Paul, other muggle-born students had rushed to write home, desperate to be told that their respective families were safe and well. For those born into wizarding families, the wait was not so fraught with dread, but they experienced the fear nonetheless; the fear that their friends would discover they had suffered a loss, or that the attacks would spread and soon begin to target their own families. Wizards and witches had been killed by these Death Eaters before; they would be again. Of that there was no doubt.

Yet, despite the subdued atmosphere that weekend, the whispered conversations, and lack of excitement, the sun had managed to shine, and those that had found the motivation to do so had spent as much of their time outside in the school grounds as they could.

To Amelia's chagrin, this had meant that Simon had returned to his tradition of previous years of embarking on a morning run with Jeremiah. Although not usually a daily occurrence, the good weather of that weekend had inspired them to run twice a day. "To make the most of it," Simon had explained before leaving again on the Saturday night.

It was not the act of running that annoyed Amelia so much, but the way that Simon would leave for a couple of hours at a time. Not that she could explain this to anyone; not even Katie understood why things like this wound her up so much. So, she was left to suffer alone, in silence, and hope that Simon would eventually pick up on the hints she was dropping about how unimpressed she was.

On the Sunday afternoon, the three of them returned to the Ravenclaw Common Room from the main courtyard where they had been relaxing since lunchtime. When they arrived there, they found it strangely quiet. Other than a small group of younger students sat around one of the large tables, it seemed that everyone else had finally felt compelled to venture outside. Simon immediately headed up towards the dormitories, returning a few minutes later, holding a magazine.

"Got some research to do," he told Amelia when she fixed him with a quizzical look.

"Research for what?" As he dropped down next to her on the sofa she had claimed, she turned the magazine to get a look at the front cover; her nose scrunched up as soon as she saw what it was. _Which Broomstick?_

"Selling my old broom. I want to get an idea of how much I can charge for it."

As he began to flick through the magazine, Amelia looked across to Katie, hoping to find sympathy but instead finding that she too was now reading, an open book resting on her lap. Amelia sighed inwardly. She was beginning to consider ignoring Simon entirely. It would certainly save her a lot of annoyance. Things had not got any worse between the two of them since Friday morning, but they certainly had not got better either.

Almost an hour since they had all left the courtyard, Elayne and Paul finally appeared in the Common Room. As they approached, Amelia looked up expectantly at her friends, but Elayne simply shook her head.

"Still bugger all," she muttered, throwing herself into a nearby armchair and swinging her legs up to hang over the arm nearest Amelia.

Paul quietly found a seat next to Katie, who briefly looked up to smile at him, before returning to her book.

"Oh," said Amelia, unsure how to respond. "Well, I think you should definitely hear back tomorrow. Thinking about it, today was probably a bit overambitious to expect a reply already." In truth, if anything really bad had happened to either Elayne or Paul's families, they would have heard by now, from either Professor McGonagall, or Professor Flitwick. Already on the Friday, news that the uncle of one of the younger students had been killed in the attacks spread throughout the school like wildfire. Not that Amelia could convince Elayne of anything other than that which she already believed. It seemed that her friend still did not entirely trust the Wizarding World's way of doing things, even though she had belonged to it for the past six years now.

"Oh yeah," Elayne said loudly, prodding Amelia's arm with her foot. Knowing that her friend had just been in the Owlery, and thus had probably stepped in owl droppings, Amelia leant as far away from her shoe as she could. Then again, Elayne was quite likely to have made Paul look for the owl that she had sent, and watched him from a safe distance. "Paul made some friends though." She laughed to herself. "Didn't you?"

Amelia looked across to Paul again, who looked mildly embarrassed. "I saw those girls from the train again," he explained. "You know, the ones that were smoking."

Simon stirred then. "Who was smoking?"

Amelia shoved him away. "Never you mind."

"Anyway, they were nice, weren't they?" Elayne winked at Paul. "They were very … complimentary. I'm sure I recognised them actually. I've probably met them at a party before." She yawned. "Anyway, so we had a nice chat for a while. Well, they chatted, Paul barely got a word in, and I could easily have sat there with a bag of popcorn watching them. It was amazing."

Amelia thought that she knew what popcorn was, though did not understand the relevance, but she dismissed it. The pained expression on Paul's face suggested he did not agree so much with Elayne's summary, but then most people disagreed with Elayne usually.

"Actually," he said, looking straight at Amelia, "I was thinking I might try-out for the team."

At that, Simon looked up from his magazine again. Amelia was amused to see out of the corner of her eye one of Elayne's legs slip off the arm of her chair as she sat up in shock.

She beamed at Paul. "You've decided to go for it then?"

He shrugged. "Like your mum said, it's our last chance, I guess."

"Jeremiah'll be pleased, mate," said Simon. "He's got to find a replacement for Wes as well now, not to mention Ath and Lloyd." Elayne cooed at that, though said nothing. Simon blinked, then continued, "I'll let Jem know later tonight, for you."

"No pressure, then," said Elayne, laughing. "You've got a week to prepare!"

The next morning, however, all thoughts about Paul's plans to try-out were forgotten, as he and Elayne awaited the owl post, the latter with uncharacteristic nervousness. That she had even got up at the same time as the others, and come to breakfast on time was an achievement of itself, and testament to how different she was acting. In contrast, Paul seemed a lot less on edge, and at any rate still able to eat breakfast, piling a Full English onto his plate.

"Do you want any toast, Elayne?" asked Katie, pushing a rack of toast across the table once she had taken a slice.

Elayne shook her head as she clutched a mug of coffee. "I'm not hungry."

Katie and Amelia exchanged a glance, but left it at that.

It was the noise of the other students that alerted them to the arrival of the owls as the volume increased and the chatter grew more excited as more and more people started to spot them flying in, a stark contrast to the inaudible wing-flapping of the owls. Almost immediately, one of them dropped a small envelope between Paul and Amelia, grazing Paul's hand, and he snatched it up instantly, scanned the address and ripped it open. Another was dropped opposite him, on Simon's lap, and Amelia noticed Elayne looking above them, as though trying to locate the owl she had sent.

"Oh, it's addressed to you, Elayne," Simon said, holding up the envelope that had landed on him, and he held it out uncertainly.

Amelia had never seen Elayne move so fast. Like Paul, she grabbed the envelope and tore it open, her gaze flicking so fast across the page that it was a wonder she could even read what she was looking at. After a moment, she dropped the paper and looked to Simon, sat next to her, who was watching with an expression half of intrigue, half bemusement. Without warning, Elayne grabbed his head, pulled him toward her, and kissed him.

Katie let out some sort of exclamation, Paul's head shot up from reading his letter, and Amelia suddenly felt as though everything around her had begun to move at an incredibly slow pace. Not to mention, it quickly became clear that Elayne did not intend for it to merely be a quick peck on the lips. She leaned in closer, cradling Simon's face with her hands in what seemed to be at the same time a delicate yet firm grip. To his credit, Simon's own hands were hovering in mid-air but Amelia could see that his mouth – and from the looks of it, his tongue - was certainly being receptive enough towards Elayne's own. After a few seconds, Elayne pulled away, leaving Simon to gasp for breath.

"Sorry, babe," Elayne smirked, picking up her letter again. "Didn't mean anything. Hope I didn't raise your hopes."

Of them all, Katie seemed to have recovered the quickest. Or perhaps she had not been shocked at all. "Is it good news then, Elayne?" she asked. "Is your family okay?"

Elayne did not look up from the letter, as she continued to read it. Instead, she beamed at the paper. "Yep! All safe. Shannon and Meryl are fine, and my grandparents too. Good news eh?"

"Someone that my mum used to know died," announced Paul at that moment.

When they all turned to look at him, he shrugged. "Apparently she hadn't seen her in years. But they both come from the same town. And this woman … she moved to Kent years ago. And she was killed when she went out shopping with her son."

"That's awful," Katie said quietly. So quiet, in fact, that Amelia could barely hear her over the sheer volume of voices in the Great Hall.

"Is your family okay, though, Paul?" she asked.

He nodded. "Apparently nothing happened around where we lived. So that's good at least, I suppose."

As the five of them resumed eating their breakfast, Amelia could not help but wonder how long it would be before these activities would reach critical mass. Surely these troubles would be enveloping all of their lives soon enough, and it was only a matter of time until one of them would be a lot more directly affected by it.

* * *

As soon as the bell rang to signal the start of the morning break that day, Elayne headed straight from their Transfiguration lesson into the nearest empty classroom and began to write a brief reply letter to her mother and sister. When the bell rang again, fifteen minutes later, she ignored it, and continued to scribble out her response, deciding that she probably ought to provide her family with some actual details of the attacks, instead of simply scrawling out a few disconnected questions like she had done in her previous letter. Eventually, when she heard the corridor emptying and realised that lessons must have started again, she chucked her belongings back into her bag and dashed out of the classroom. When she finally reached her Care of Magical Creatures class, she was already ten minutes late and – even worse – immediately partnered up with Jack. Usually when the class was asked to work in pairs, she would team up with Paul, but this time it looked as though he had been snapped up by Emma. No doubt she had probably leapt at the opportunity as soon as it had become apparent to her.

Their teacher, Professor Kettleburn, was a middle-aged man, physically fit, and clearly someone who preferred to spend his time outdoors, though he often seemed easily distracted in lessons, as though the affairs of humans were secondary to those of nature. He bore several scars and burns on his bare arms and shins, no doubt a result of his profession; some of the creatures they studied in their lessons could deal quite some damage if mishandled or if somebody did not pay full attention to what they were doing; some of them had learnt that the hard way. As Elayne settled down on the grass, trying to distance herself from Jack as much as possible, Kettleburn finished handing out sheets of parchment to the rest of the class.

"This is the schedule for the year's lessons," he informed Elayne. "I was just saying that for the first two weeks, we will be going back to the work you did in sixth year so that you can refresh your memories for a short class test at the end of next week."

Elayne fixed the schedule with a dark look, which earned her a smirk from Jack, and no doubt a sneer from Emma. If Kettleburn noticed, he said nothing.

In their pairs, they were left to look after a fire-crab for the rest of the lesson, kept in a metre-square wooden box lined inside with steel. Elayne left the feeding duties of their fire-crab to Jack, as she stared at Emma every few minutes to see how the other girl was behaving. If there was one thing that she had learnt in Care of Magical Creatures, it was that Paul knew what he was doing. He seemed to have learnt a lot in their lessons, where Elayne had never been paying much attention, and he certainly seemed to take the subject a lot more seriously than she. While he was lifting the fire-crab that he shared with Emma, she stared at him in awe for so long that it was clear she had forgotten about cleaning out the box it was kept in. Paul had both of his hands around the jewelled shell of the creature, holding it as far away from his body as he could, with its tail facing away from him, and although he seemed quite comfortable with this, he did look over at the Gryffindor eventually, as if wondering how long she was going to take.

"Do you want to feed it?" Jack asked, making Elayne's attention snap back to him. He was holding out a small chilli.

Elayne scoffed. "I'll leave you to it, I think."

Jack glanced toward Emma and Paul. "Are you jealous?"

"Jealous?" Elayne narrowed her eyes. "Why?" She stood up to stretch her legs. "I don't mind who Paul works with. It's just funnier if _Emma_ doesn't get to work with _him_."

"So you don't prefer him as a partner?"

Elayne laughed, and the sudden loud noise seemed to startle the fire-crab, for it darted forward, shooting out flames from its tail in the same instant. Jack, whose hand was dangling over the edge of the box as he gazed up at Elayne, caught the last of these flames, and he recoiled faster than she had ever seen him move, swearing loudly.

"Look what you did!" He waved his burnt hand in the air, as though that would soothe it. "You scared it!"

Folding her arms, Elayne scowled. "You'll be fine," she muttered, then, turning to look for Kettleburn, called, "Professor!"

The professor seemed to have already spotted the incident, as he strode over instantly and reached out for Jack's hand.

"Yes, very minimal damage," he said as he examined the burnt fingertips. "Be sure to ask Madam Pomfrey to put some burn-healing paste on that when you get back to the castle. You'll be fine. At least you'll have learnt to be more cautious in the future, hmm?" With that, he strolled past them to oversee Paul and Emma's handling of their own fire-crab.

Amusingly, Jack did not seem impressed with Elayne's lack of sympathy; he frowned down at the chillis as he continued to prepare them for the fire-crab, and even frowned at the creature itself when he eventually fed it. After some time spent in this sullen silence, Elayne decided that it seemed like as good a time as any to ask him about the photograph that Amelia had given her. She had already concluded on the Friday morning that he was the most likely culprit to have planted it in their dormitory but had barely thought about confronting him over it whilst she had still been waiting for news from home. Considering his current grouchy mood, however, she hoped to be able to get a straight answer from him, instead of the usual teasing he engaged in.

"So," she said slowly, sitting back down. "You and I, we've had our moments, right?" She never usually checked her speech, but somehow she now found herself carefully monitoring how she phrased everything. One wrong move and he could close up.

Or swear at her.

"Oh fuck off, Clarkey," he scoffed, glancing dismissively at her.

Elayne straightened up, cocked an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not in the mood for one of your games," he growled.

"This isn't a game," Elayne replied slightly crossly. "And don't make out like you have some right to get annoyed with me. Amelia found the photo, Jack."

"What photo?"

"The one of us two. At some party or something. Don't act coy."

Jack was still frowning, though now it seemed to be more out of confusion than anger.

"I honestly have no idea what you're on about. I don't have any photos of us." His frown deepened. "Wait- what are we doing in the photo?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," Elayne muttered. She considered herself to be fairly good at reading Jack, and it seemed as though he genuinely knew nothing of the photograph, but that only complicated matters further. If Jack had not planted it, then whoever had done so probably had rather different motives for doing so; if it had been Jack, he would likely have only wanted to annoy her.

"Well don't I get to see it, then?"

"Absolutely not."  
"Hey, if I'm in it, then surely it's half mine. Don't I get visitation rights or something?"

Elayne snorted.

"Jack, if you get hold of any photo of the two of us, you'll probably build a shrine around it, you freak. If you didn't plant it in our dormitory, then I need to figure out who actually did."

"Do you actually believe somebody planted it?" Jack looked a little disbelieving. "That sounds a bit silly. It's not like- we're not spies, you know."

Elayne looked again to Emma, who was smiling as Paul explained something about fire-crabs to her, pointing into their box. The adoration with which Emma looked at him was almost sickening, but the best part was that Paul was completely oblivious to it.

Things did not get better from there. After their heated discussion that morning, Elayne found herself wanting to spend time with Jack even less than she usually did, but unfortunately he took all of the same subjects as she, and thus Elayne barely had a moment free from him. She was not sure if it had been part of a conscious decision to consistently stalk her through her school years and turn up wherever she needed to be, but the fact remained that he had been aware of her subject choices before he had made his own. She would not have been surprised if it were more than a coincidence that theirs were both the same.

She could not even avoid him in the evening some days; at ten-thirty that night, he had taken it upon himself to remind her of their Astronomy lesson, and fifteen minutes later was knocking on her dormitory door.

"Me and Jem are going now," he told her, bouncing on the balls of his feet, as she hovered in the doorway. "You coming?" His mood had improved somewhat throughout the day.

Elayne rolled her eyes. "Yes. Just don't … touch me, or look at me or anything." They met up with Jeremiah in the Common Room and made their way through the silent castle for the Astronomy Tower.

The lesson itself drew to a close a little earlier than usual, later that night, and it soon became apparent why. As they packed away their telescopes, and each folded up their star-charts, the young Professor Sinistra waited to address them. She stood facing the small blackboard that was held up on a tripod across the wide-open space that was their Astronomy classroom. Sat on the stone steps that curved around one of the huge pillars inside the tower, they watched as she wrote on the board the date of nearly a month previous:

_12th August 1977_

Facing the class once again, the Professor wore a faint smile as she asked, "does anybody know of anything of astronomical importance that occurred on this day?"

Everybody remained silent, and as Elayne looked around her, she saw mostly blank faces until Gaston Wilkes, the only Slytherin in the class, drawled just two words.

"Perseid meteors," he said.

Professor Sinistra beamed with happiness at his response, as though she had not expected anybody to attempt to answer her question.

"That's correct," she replied. "The peak of the Perseid meteor shower usually falls upon the twelfth or thirteenth day of August, and this year it was a particularly impressive spectacle to behold."

Elayne closed her eyes for a moment. Professor Sinistra's voice, fortunately, was not one of those that droned on as other Professors' voices were guilty of doing, but it was almost one o'clock in the morning, and she had been awake for seventeen hours. With the room as dark as it was – only two lit lanterns illuminated it from behind the Professor, and to their left, the low railings that semi-circled around part of the tower opened the room up to the night sky outside, as dark as the school robes that she clutched around her – it was easy for her eyelids to grow heavy, and to find the Professor's words not especially stirring at this time. The only thing that was keeping her awake was the crisp, cool air that seeped into the open classroom; Elayne had made sure to sit furthest from the railings, putting the rest of her classmates between herself and the source of the cold.

Her lapse in concentration did not go entirely unnoticed, however, and Jack gave her a sharp prod in the side and she jolted, her eyelids flashing open. As she shot him a deathly glare, she heard the professor ask Gaston if he had seen any of the meteors that previous month.

"A few," he responded slowly, "but the Muggle lights in the city meant the sky wasn't dark enough."

Pulling her robes tighter around her torso, Elayne scoffed, and a few of her classmates glanced round, though she merely shrugged at them. What did Gaston expect, living in London? People needed light to see things, whether they were Muggles or not; there was no need to single her people out over the most mundane of things.

Professor Sinistra continued as though she had not noticed the interruption, however.

"Well, you have all been given a fantastic opportunity," she said. "I have been given permission by the Headmaster for us to go on a class trip in one of our lessons next week."

She paused as a murmur of excited voices washed over them all. Jack let out a short cheer, causing the two other girls in the class – Grace Foreacre and Josie Holmes – to laugh and flash grins at him.

"The Ministry issues Time-turners to the school on occasion for educational purposes and we have been lucky to gain access to a few," Professor Sinistra continued, her voice raised so that she could be heard over the murmurs. "These will enable us to return to the night of the twelfth of August so that everyone can view the Perseids, which we will then study for the next few lessons."

Elayne was very satisfied to see Jack's jaw drop in shock, as the class chatter intensified.

"We'll actually be going back in time?" asked one of the Gryffindors, Kent, with a look on his face that said he did not believe it.

"Essentially, yes," replied the professor, a faint smile returning to her lips. "But the Ministry takes this very seriously. I will release further details to you all by Friday of this week, so you may ask any questions you have then." She scrutinised them all for a moment, as though she was already interpreting what their questions would be, then she said, "well, that's it for tonight. I imagine you would all like to get to bed." She rubbed her hands together, as if to fight off the chill of the room.

The small class of eight hesitated, still huddled on the low stone steps, but when it became apparent that their teacher wished to speak no more of the matter, and was now in fact packing up her own belongings, they got up, buzzing with excitement as they exited the room. They had never bonded so closely over something and as they descended the tightly-coiled staircases of the Astronomy Tower, their animated discussion grew louder as they each tried to contribute their own theories. Jeremiah had pointed out that because of the way it had been phrased – as a class trip, rather than an outdoors lesson – that it must mean they would be leaving the school grounds for it, which then led Tilden Toots to wonder out loud if they would be required to apparate to their intended destination. This thought did not bother Elayne – she had passed her Apparition Test on her first attempt earlier that year, in April, and indeed had employed the skill to a fair degree over the summer holidays – but she knew that it often did not sit as well with others. Grace groaned at the suggestion, and Gaston scowled. It had been the talk of the school for a few weeks in their sixth year when he had experienced a particularly nasty case of splinching in their second Apparation lesson, with a large gaping chunk of flesh missing from his side on one of the occasions that he had reappeared in his training circle.

It was not until they had nearly reached the bottom of the tower that they had remembered how late into the night it was, after prompting from Jeremiah, who had voiced aloud a caution to not get on the wrong side of Filch and be caught making so much noise in an otherwise sleeping castle.

When they reached the Entrance Hall, they each bid goodbye to one another, with Gaston and the Hufflepuffs heading down into the dungeons on either side of the marble staircase that Kent and Grace climbed into the main part of the school, and then Elayne, Jack and Jeremiah began to head for the West Wing, on the other side of the school, the two boys half a pace ahead, and Elayne now too tired to care about anything other than sleep.

The next morning, they had a Care of Magical Creatures lesson again, and Elayne somehow managed to turn up on time. Emma, however, did not seem to think that it mattered. As Elayne and Paul reached the area where their lessons were usually held, Emma broke off from the conversation she was having with some of the other members of the class and began to approach them, smiling. Puzzled by this behaviour, Elayne noticed as they drew closer that the other girl was not looking at her even slightly. That made more sense.

"Hi, Paul," Emma said brightly.

It was incredibly satisfying for Elayne to see the apprehension and confusion in Paul's expression. However, there was apparently something wrong with him, because instead of completely ignoring Emma – as he should have done – he stopped and smiled awkwardly back at her.

"Er … hi," he said slowly.

"Do you think we'll be working with our fire-crabs again today, or something else?" Emma asked.

Still Paul seemed unsure of how to respond, so Elayne thought she would save him the trouble.

"_How's life, Emma_? She said loudly, hoping that she had successfully conveyed the fact that she did not actually care one bit how Emma was.

The other girl blinked.

"Fine, thanks," she said just a little too sweetly. "But if you don't mind, I'm trying to talk to Paul about our work."

"What makes you think you'll still be working together?"

Emma raised an eyebrow.

"Do you have a problem with us working together?" she asked, in a tone that suggested she knew very well what the answer was.

"As a matter of fact, I do. Paul's my friend." Elayne glanced at him and shrugged. "Sort of."

"Oh please!" Emma rolled her eyes. "You don't have friends, Elayne. Just people that put up with you, and lads that are stupid enough to shag you." She raised her gaze, looking past Elayne and Paul. "And look; here's one now."

Jack – of course it was Jack; nobody else appeared everywhere that Elayne went, just like that – came from out of nowhere at that moment, grinning at them all.

"Alright? What's going on here, then?" He looked to Elayne.

"Apparently you only shagged me because you're stupid," she told him, unable to resist the urge to mock the statement.

Fortunately, Jack seemed able to read her well and picked up on the fact that she was not treating Emma seriously. He winked at Elayne as he turned away from her.

"That's really offensive," he said to Emma, pausing for effect, then adding, "that's not the _only_ reason I shagged her."

Elayne resisted the urge to laugh. Emma, however, did not seem amused.

"Don't think you can intimidate me, Clarke," she said dismissively.

Jack straightened up.

"Okay, seriously, what's going on here?"

"I think they're fighting … over me." Elayne almost jumped when Paul spoke. In all honesty, she had already forgotten he was there. He sounded as confused as he looked, especially when he added, "but I don't get why."

"Oh," said Jack, who apparently now understood the situation completely.

"What does she expect when she turns up to a lesson late? If she was here on time yesterday, maybe she could have chosen whatever partner she liked, but instead-"

"Oh I'm just a 'she' now, am I?"

"Well, I'm sure I can think of a much better name for you if you'd like," Emma shot back, her voice growing louder. "How does 'slut' sound?"

Apparently Jack could read Elayne _too_ well, for he quickly grabbed her before she could lunge at Emma. He tightened his arms around her from behind, grunting as she continued to attempt to throw herself forward.

"Why don't you two work together," he muttered, "seeing as you get along so well."

"Sure, let me at her!" Elayne yelled, though Jack's grip persisted and she soon relented, letting him pull her back a few steps.

Emma looked ready for combat; she actually had her wand in her hand. Paul still looked rather perplexed, and now also slightly scared, and he was now watching Jack, who turned to address him.

"Who do you want to work with, mate?" he asked.

Elayne rolled her eyes. As if _that_ was important.

"I- I don't mind," Paul replied, eyeing them all warily.

Before anyone could respond, they heard voices from behind. Jack released Elayne and she turned to see Professor Kettleburn approaching with the only remaining member of the class, Jess, a Slytherin girl, who was cautiously watching Emma.

"Morning everyone," Kettleburn said briskly. "If you could get into the pairs you were in yesterday, please, and-"

A short laugh from Emma drowned out the rest of whatever he had to say, and Elayne spun around to glare at her, only to be met with a smug grin.

"Looks like you're with me again, Clarkey," Jack smirked.

Elayne nearly punched him.

* * *

The Charms lesson that day took place just before lunchtime, so that when the end of lesson bell rang, almost everyone in the class had already packed up their bags in anticipation of a prompt departure from the third floor classroom. Professor Flitwick, having seen that nobody had any more intention of working before they went to lunch, clambered up the pile of books behind his desk to peer at them all, then with a flick of his wand, shut the large textbook that laid before him. He seemed to realise that the thirty-strong class (most students opted to continue Charms at N.E.W.T. Level) of seventh-years was awaiting his permission to leave.

"Don't forget the essays due for Monday," he squeaked. "They don't have to be very long ..." He paused, then added, "that is everything for now. You are free to go."

Immediately, there was a scraping of wood on wood as chairs were pushed back from underneath desks and everybody rushed to their feet.

"Just a moment!" Flitwick added quickly, his voice barely audible above the noise of students laughing and joking and – in the case of Sirius Black, calling after his friends who had already left the room – shouting.

Nobody stopped moving, but the volume died down momentarily so that the professor's announcement could be heard.

"Could Miss Meadowes stay behind, please," Flitwick called, climbing down from behind his desk.

Dorcas froze. She had not yet left the aisle of desks she had been sat in, allowing students from the front of the class to pass by first, but now she wished she had rushed ahead and got out of the room already. She was starving hungry. As she looked up, she saw that Jeremiah was just passing by her desk. The general chatter returned as everybody realised they were unaffected by the professor's request, but Jeremiah remained silent, and his gaze slid across Dorcas' face, catching her own for a second, and then he was past her, and heading for the door. He could not give support now. Not that he _would_ not give it, but Dorcas could not ask him for it.

She waited until everybody had left, and the door was shut behind them before she approached Flitwick at the front of the room.

He was leafing through sheaves of parchment, but did not seem all that distracted, for he looked up straight away.

"Ah yes, thank you, Miss Meadowes. I just wanted to discuss something that had been brought to my attention."

As he did not indicate for her to sit down, Dorcas assumed that he did not intend to spend long. Still, she did always feel somewhat disconcerted when stood in his presence. Even the smallest of first years were slightly taller than the diminutive professor, but looking down at a man decades older than she felt somehow rude. He did not seem bothered by it, however.

"Professor Babbling came to speak to me just the other day," he started, and instantly Dorcas knew this was not going to end positively. Professor Babbling was her Ancient Runes professor. The professor whose first lesson of the year she had not attended. "She mentioned that you had not been present in her lesson on Monday," Flitwick continued.

Dorcas bit her lip. There was no use denying it. Not that she would have tried anyway; she had always felt that if you knew the potential repercussions of your actions, there was no honour in trying to make excuses for them if they turned out badly.

"She informed me that none of your classmates knew of your whereabouts but she wished to let you explain yourself before the situation is dealt with. Do you have anything to say?"

"No, I don't have an excuse, Professor," Dorcas said without hesitation.

Flitwick looked rather taken aback by her response, but quickly regained his composure.

"Well, then … ah, usually in this instance we would just issue you a warning, and if you were to do it again, place you in detention." He seemed uncomfortable. "But … unfortunately we are both aware that this is not the first time you have missed a lesson without a reasonable explanation."

Dorcas said nothing. She thought the Professor was waiting for her to suddenly think of a last-minute excuse, hoping to rescue herself from whatever punishment was coming her way. Eventually, he seemed to realise that she would not.

"I will have to inform your parents in this case, as a warning. Hopefully you will see the importance of attending _all_ your lessons." He seemed to be in two minds about imparting this news. "That being said, Professor Babbling seems to be very impressed with the progress that you have made in the subject, and hopes that you will continue to be what she deems to be one of the very best in the class." He cleared his throat.

Realising that he had not been required to compliment her in this way, Dorcas could not help but feel some gratitude towards her Head of House. She nodded, to show she had acknowledged what he had said.

"Very well," Flitwick said. "Thank you, Miss Meadowes. You may go to lunch for now, though I suggest that afterwards you find Professor Babbling and ask for the work that you need to catch up on from the lesson."

Dorcas did not hesitate in leaving. Hoisting her bag back over her shoulder, she headed straight for the door, wondering how on earth she was going to deal with her parents' inevitable reaction to the letter they would soon be receiving from Professor Flitwick. Her mother was _not_ going to be pleased.

As soon as she stepped into the corridor, she saw Jeremiah. By the way he looked up when she exited the classroom, it seemed he had waited for her.

"Dorcas-" He looked unsure whether she would even give him her time of day. To be fair, Dorcas could not even be sure herself if she would let him get into a conversation with her. Not until the very second he was right in front of her, and she knew she could not take her eyes off him, did she.

"Is everything okay?" To his credit, he held her gaze.

She shrugged. "It's the least of my worries, for now at least." She knew he would not leave her until he at least knew what Flitwick had wanted to talk to her about, so against her better judgement, she continued. "Flitwick's writing to my parents about skipping Ancient Runes the other day. Apparently my past form isn't encouraging. I guess all those times we used to bunk off lessons have finally come back around."

Jeremiah looked worried, which Dorcas realised in that very second was something that she hated. Jeremiah was not supposed to be thinking about her. He was not supposed to be worrying about her. Any connection to her that he continued to have would only prove dangerous for him.

"Don't worry about it," she told him before he could say anything. "I'll be fine. It's just my mother that's going to have to deal with it." Once, they would have laughed at that, and made a joke at her mother's expense, but the look that Dorcas gave Jeremiah said – she hoped – to not bother this time.

To keep from looking at him, she began to head down the corridor, but – unsurprisingly – he followed.

"So why weren't you there?"

"Where?"

"The lesson. Ancient Runes. It was the first lesson of the whole year, and you weren't with me," Jeremiah paused, then added, "so who were you with?"

"I was on my own." Dorcas resisted the urge to look at him as she said this. Really, she should not even credit his questions with answers, but that would just be rude. For a second, she thought she would get away with this, but then she felt a hand on her arm, and it gripped hold of her and held her back.

"Why won't you just explain what's going on?"

In a flash of anger, she batted his hand away. Clearly he had not expected her to use such force; he quickly let go.

"You're not supposed to be here," she snapped. "You're not supposed to be around me, or talking to me, or any of this. You have to stop caring."

Jeremiah shook his head. "I told you already. I can't do that."

"You have to." It was no use. She could not get through to him. Not with this message. "Look, that lesson: I just couldn't deal with all of this already, okay. I thought I could face you. But I couldn't. And I needed space. I needed some air. So I didn't go. But I'm doing it now. Or at least I'm trying, but you're making it hard, Jem." She knew she should not have used his nickname, but it was too late now.

Those gorgeous blue eyes of his were staring at her, studying her face and she knew she had to leave him now before she got drawn in completely. Before he could respond, she took another step away.

"Just let me go. Please." Assuming that he would, she left, trying not to rush too quickly, but not wanting to leave him with an opportunity to catch up with her either. After a few paces, it was clear that he was not going to follow, and she continued to hurry, trying not to consider the thought that he was most likely staring after her as she left him, alone.

At lunch, she quickly wolfed down a generous portion of chicken salad and pasta, keeping half an eye on the staff table and trying not to think about the encounter she had just had. When she spotted Professor Babbling rise and head out of the Great Hall, she instantly dropped her fork, picked up her bag and made her own way towards the Entrance Hall.

"Professor!" she called as she grew nearer, skidding to a halt across the Great Hall's threshold as the professor turned around. "I- um-" Appalled that she was already slightly out of breath, Dorcas paused a moment, then said, "I spoke to Professor Flitwick earlier."

Professor Babbling was about the same age as Dorcas' mother – mid-fifties she guessed – but was a lot nicer and actually knew how to smile. She ushered Dorcas to a corner of the Entrance Hall, out of the way of students heading in and out to and from lunch. "I hope you understand why I told Professor Flitwick about your absence, Dorcas," she said. "I did it out of concern."  
Dorcas nodded. "I understand. I'm sorry I wasn't in your lesson."

A strange thing happened then; something that Dorcas had never experienced before. Her teacher looked straight at her, and it felt as though she was properly _seeing_ her, as a person, not just in the way a teacher would ordinarily look at a student. It was disconcerting, but Dorcas had only ever been looked at like that by a few people, and at that moment she felt strangely comforted; the most comforted she had felt for a few months at least.

"Are you alright?" Professor Babbling asked her. When she frowned, the teacher continued. "Every day since the school year started, I've seen you eating by yourself at every meal. You come in alone, and you go out alone. That hasn't gone unnoticed, Dorcas." She hesitated, then added with a faint smile, "some of us do actually care about our students."

Taken off-guard, Dorcas looked away. "I- I think the world is becoming a very dangerous place, Professor. I don't think there's anybody who is safe any more, but most people still don't seem to realise it. Everyone just obsesses over their own life as if everything else doesn't matter but the more they do that, the less prepared they all are for whatever's coming."

"You sound like somebody I admire greatly." At that, Dorcas turned back to face her professor.

"Who?"

"The Headmaster." Professor Babbling smiled again, pulling her shawl around her shoulders. "Don't worry about the work you missed in the lesson last week. It was just a recap of last year's material and you've already proved enough times that you know what you're doing. I'll see you in class in about half an hour, yes?" With that she shuffled away, leaving Dorcas to stand in stunned silence and feeling more than a little embarrassed.

* * *

In the Gryffindor Common Room – or any Common Room for that matter – it was not unusual to find boisterous, or excited, or simply playful students shouting and screaming across the room, or laughing, or taunting; these behaviours were all, in fact, to be expected, as the Common Room was intended as a place for students to relax and enjoy themselves, at the end of a long day of lessons and hard work.

Screaming down school corridors, however, was not acceptable, especially so close to Professor McGonagall's office; anybody with sense would have avoided such foolish behaviour. Or so Lily would have thought had she not spent her years at Hogwarts encountering various inconsiderate idiots. Already used to having to deal with such problems during her two years as a Prefect, she acted instinctively and without deliberation, as two young girls tore past her, screaming mock insults at one another. Lily spun on the spot and strode after them in an instant. Flicking her wand towards her mouth, she muttered, "_sonorus_!"

"Excuse me!" she called after the two girls, her booming voice – magnified by the charm – charging after them down the corridor.

Immediately, they skidded to a halt and burst into fits of laughter, doubled over and not even bothering to face Lily as she approached them. They looked no older than thirteen, though their behaviour did not even suggest that. Lily removed the spell she had just cast as she drew up before them.

"Do you realise how loud you were just being?"

Instantly, one of the girls straightened up and fixed Lily with a scowl. "So?"

"So try acting a bit more maturely, and don't go screaming about the place."

The other girl smirked, and looked to her friend who was still scowling at Lily. "Or else what?" she said softly. "You're just a student. What you gonna do about it?"

Lily was about to point out that she was Head Girl, but had a feeling that the two girls already knew that. Her badge was clearly displayed on the lapel of her robes, after all. She closed her mind to the nagging suggestions of her subconscious that she just curse the two girls to oblivion, and crossed her arms across her chest.

"Yes, I'm a student," she said coolly. "So you're lucky that it's me that's come over here, and not Professor McGonagall. Have you noticed how close we are to her office? I'm sure she would have no problem with coming out and giving you both some sort of punishment for disturbing the peace, not to mention for the _back-chatting_."

Of course, James Potter naturally had to choose that moment to turn into the corridor and enter the situation. Lily glanced up as he approached, and instantly he seemed to notice there was some form of stand-off occurring before him.

"Alright?" he said brightly. "What's happening here?"

Neither of the two girls seemed sure who to look at now.

"Go away, Potter," Lily said through gritted teeth. She fixed the two girls with an intense stare. "_Go_," she told them.

They hesitated for a moment, apparently not sure whether they should do as she had told them to – though really it was in line with their wishes – or to defy her further, then they stalked off, round the same corner that James had appeared from.

"Are you okay?" he asked, stepping nearer. "Were they giving you trouble?"

Lily did not look at him. "I'm fine."

Her shortness at least seemed to not go unnoticed by him, as he hesitated, then said softly, "I was only trying to help."

"I don't need your help!" Lily snapped, whirling round. "I've already been a Prefect for two years, while you were off gallivanting around, causing far more trouble than those girls ever could. I'm pretty sure I know what I'm doing by now, thanks. _I've_ actually _dealt_ with problems like this before, not _created_ them." With that, she stormed off away from the girls, and Potter, and anybody else who had decided to get on the wrong side of her that day. It was only when she reached an antechamber between corridors that she realised she had headed back in the direction she had just come from. Sighing, she continued on her way. There was no way she was chancing walking past James again; she would just have to take a different route to the Library.

* * *

The following morning brought more information with it regarding the Muggle attacks. That day's copy of The Daily Prophet had dedicated another few pages to news of the events, half of the front cover taken up by a large photo of wizards searching through rubble, their wands out as they each swept an arm slowly over the debris as they presumably looked for clues.

Amelia got a chance to study the cover closely as Katie, beside her, read out snippets of the article to she, Simon, Elayne and Paul.

"'_Investigations are still under way to ascertain the exact identities of those behind the spate of attacks throughout the country that occurred on Thursday 1__st__ September._' It says they're asking for people to come forward if they suspect anyone of being a Death Eater." Katie sighed. "Most people are probably too scared to do even that these days."

"Not to mention those Death Eaters seem to be getting really good at staying hidden," added Simon. He took a swig of pumpkin juice. "They're pretty well organised, to be fair."

"I think that's giving them too much credit," said Katie. "For all we know, the majority of them could just be really gormless idiots following orders."

"It says here that there are now 15 confirmed deaths," Amelia interrupted her, reading over her friend's shoulder. "But everyone else that was injured is meant to be in a stable condition now."

"I guess St. Mungo's doesn't need you just yet, then, Amelia," said Simon.

She looked up to see him grinning at her, and found herself smiling warmly back. Her attention snapped back to the newspaper however when Katie tried to wrest it from her grasp. Slightly embarrassed, she distracted herself by buttering a slice of toast, careful not to look back up at Simon, who was sat directly opposite her.

"The aurors have been questioning those that were injured, apparently," said Katie as she continued to read.

Amelia frowned.

"But surely the Death Eaters would have used Memory Modifying Charms on them? Or at least most of them."  
Katie shrugged.

"I suppose it's just routine." She paused, scanning the text, then added, "one of the women treating them at the hospital has been interviewed: '_"We've had to use lots of disguising charms on the ward so that they don't start to wonder where they are. Some of them are more lucid than others, and keep catching glimpses of our wands. It makes the job very difficult." Rumours are also rife amongst the wards dealing with these victims, but there is certainly no question of who is responsible. "Without a doubt," said the junior Healer. "If his Death Eaters are the ones that did this, then it's got to be … well, you-know-who, hasn't it," she added, referring – it is assumed – to Voldemort, the dark wizard that has come to claim responsibility for a number of attacks in the Wizarding World in recent years.'_"

Elayne snorted and Amelia finally looked up to see that both Simon and Paul were frowning.

"Did she forget his name?" asked Paul, his tone somewhat disbelieving.

"I think she was probably just too scared to say it," replied Katie, turning the page of the newspaper.

"What's so scary about saying a name?" scoffed Simon. "Especially when it's French," he added with a snicker, earning a laugh from Elayne.

"It's probably a fear of retribution. You said it yourself, Simon: the Death Eaters are good at hiding their identities. For all she knew, there could have been one present when she was making those comments." Katie sighed. "There's a lot of scared people these days. I imagine it's only going to get worse."

**End of chapter 3**


End file.
